Balancing Act
by Harmne
Summary: Takes place after EOT. Stephanie finally admits to herself she loves both the men in her life and can't chose between them. Life becomes a balancing act. #1 in Agreement series. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'm apologizing in advance to all of you who hate waiting for the next installment. This one is a Work In Progress and the chapters will probably be posted erratically. Our favorite characters keep trying to go off on their own tangents instead of cooperating with my story…and I've also been distracted by a _**CSI**_ story I've been working on. On the bright side, large chunks of this story are already written, just the connecting bits left to work out._

_Part of this is in first-person from Stephanie's point of view, like the books. Because of my storyline I couldn't do that with all of it, so the Omnipotent parts will be divided by line breaks._

_This takes place after "**Eleven On Top**" and my stories "A Birthday to Remember" and "Just Another Distraction"._

_Standard Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize belongs to Janet Evanovich. The story and any new odd characters belong to me. I make no profit, I do this just for fun._

_No more talking…_

Balancing Act by Harmne

Chapter 1: Admissions

I've come to the conclusion that life is some sort of balancing act, and that whatever forces are in charge have a weird sense of humor.

Thing have been odd for the last couple of months. Well, odd for me, which was saying something. I'd tried working at Rangeman for another month but the benefits of a regular paycheck and security were balanced out by boredom, the constant temptation of Ranger, and the near-constant jealousy of Joe. So I'd told Ranger thanks and quit, going back to work for Vinnie at the bonds office. That was a few months ago.

Work is actually going pretty well. I seem to have hit my stride where skip-tracing is concerned. My instincts are great, and finally, by trial and error and sheer dumb luck, I've acquired some of the necessary skills and tactics to make them work for me. I've managed to bring in my last seven skips without getting rolled in garbage or shot at, and my only injury was a dislocated kneecap. I still haven't figured out how that happened.

But now that work was going well, my personal life was out of whack. Ever since I woke up with Ranger in my bed the day after my impromptu birthday party I've been getting strange signals from him. Strange, like maybe he's changed his mind about being just my mentor and friend. He has always invaded my space, but now there seems to be a more personal feel to it. I don't know what to think. He's been a big part of my life in the past couple of years and I'd really like to know if there could be more between us.

Joe's been pushing, too. I have a hard time remembering the last time we were together for more than a few hours that we haven't argued about my job or marriage. I think he's reached a point where he's ready to settle down and have kids, and wants me to commit. I love Joe, but I'm not ready to try marriage again and the idea of children scares me to death.

My biggest problem, of course, is that I love them both. Big surprise, huh? I've finally admitted it to myself if no one else. Joe and Ranger. Ranger or Joe? I can't imagine my life without either of them. How can I choose? Make no mistake about it, they are both very definite Alpha Males. If I choose one, the other will disappear from my life. I can't make that choice. I don't know what to do and the pressure on both sides is mounting. If I can't figure something out soon I'm going to move to Kansas.

Things came to a head with Joe tonight. He'd called earlier and invited me over for pizza and a game on TV. It was comfortable and fun until he'd started on the marriage thing again, and it degenerated into another sad argument.

"Why, Steph? Don't you love me?" It was a fair question. I'd never been able to actually say it out loud, at least not to him.

"You know I do, Joe. I love you, I just don't know if I ever want to get married again."

His smile was the ghost of its normal self. "You finally said it. I was beginning to think you never would."

A tear escaped and ran down my cheek and I impatiently wiped it away. "That's never been the problem." I sighed. "I know you're ready to settle down and start a family. The thought of having a baby any time soon terrifies me. Me, responsible for another life? People well-able to take care of themselves come to grief around me. What would happen to a child?" Another tear rolled and I ducked her head. "I understand if you give up on me, if you don't want to wait – any woman in her right mind would marry you in a heartbeat. It would hurt, but deep down it wouldn't change how I feel about you. I'll always love you."

Joe rubbed the knot forming between his eyebrows. "You didn't mention the other reason you don't want to settle down. Ma?oso."

Fresh tears rolled, and I couldn't meet his eyes. "Ah, well… Ranger's a whole different problem."

"You love him, too, don't you?" Joe asked in a surprisingly soft voice.

"I care about him. I don't know if it's love. How would I know? I thought I loved Dickie, and you know how that turned out." I sniffed, determined not to cry anymore. "Besides, he's told me himself a dozen times that he's not interested in any sort of permanent relationship, with anyone. I'd be a fool not to believe him."

Joe was silent for a couple of minutes as if silently debating with himself, then he sighed. "He cares about you, cupcake. No man would do the things he's done for you out of just friendship."

"Maybe," I whispered slowly. "But that doesn't really change anything." I tried to take a deep breath and it trembled slightly. "I'd better go. It's getting late, and you have a long day tomorrow. Good luck in court."

Joe stood when I got up, reached out and pulled me into his arms in an embrace meant to comfort. "Don't cry, cupcake. Things will work out." He paused to kiss the top of my head, and sighed. "I love you. I don't think that's going to change. I'm not in that big a hurry to settle down and be a dad… I'll back off for a while and give you space. I'm not giving up entirely, but I'll back off. Just remember I'm here if you need me."

For a moment I clutched him tightly, then pushed away and left as quickly as possible.

Joe sank back into his chair, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Bob came over and laid his head on his knee, and Joe looked down at him with sad eyes. "I hope to God I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life, Bob. I don't want to lose her. She panics when I try to hold too tight; I have to give her room. I have to let her free and just pray she'll come back…someday."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: My formatting didn't work on the first chapter…we'll see if it works better this time. Thanks for the reviews, folks -- and if you don't like Stephanie & Joe don't give up just yet!_

_This chapter is all in third-person. Sorry if it's confusing, it wouldn't work any other way._

Balancing Act by Harmne

Chapter 2

Two weeks passed, and true to his word Joe had backed off the subject of settling down with Stephanie. In fact he hadn't seen much of her except for when she brought in her skips. He had to admit she seemed to be doing okay for herself lately, and as far as he'd heard, Ranger didn't seem to be helping her with her apprehensions.

On Monday he'd caught up with her as she was leaving the station, body receipt in hand, and asked her to have lunch with him at Pino's. She never turned down Pino's. They had a nice time talking over a pepperoni pizza. Joe told her about the trial coming up and listened to the latest on Valerie and Grandma Mazur. He even managed to let her know he'd noticed she'd been doing really well with her skip tracing recently without bringing up any touchy subjects. They parted on good terms with a kiss and a hug in the parking lot before Joe headed back to the station.

The next few days were busy for Joe as he got ready to testify at a trial. There were a lot of lawyers involved and it would probably drag on for weeks, so he was dreading it. He didn't notice Stephanie hadn't been around until Connie called him at home after ten Thursday night.

"Joe? This is Connie from the bonds office. Have you seen Stephanie?"

"Not for a few days. Why?"

"Nothing urgent. I've got a few FTAs for her and she hasn't been by for a couple of days. She's not answering her phones and she hasn't called back on any of my messages yet. I've even been trying to call her tonight. I was just wondering if there was something going on I hadn't heard about."

Joe realized he'd started pacing and stopped, chewing his lip instead. "I'll check on her." He debated a moment then added in a rush, "Connie -- don't tell her you called me, but if you hear from her just let me know she's okay."

Connie was quiet for a beat. "Are you two fighting again?" she asked softly, sympathy in her voice.

"Not fighting, really. I realized I've been crowding her and if I don't back off I'm going to drive her away. I'm trying to give her some space."

"You're a good man, Joe. I'll let you know if I hear anything, okay?"

"Same here," he said, and he hung up.

He tried to go back to what he'd been doing when the phone rang but he couldn't concentrate. Stephanie's comment at lunch on Monday about a lucky streak kept repeating through his mind and he wondered if her luck had run out. How many times had she been in the wrong place at the wrong time? His chest felt tight and he wanted to jump in his car and start looking for her – check her apartment, find out what FTA she might be working… but he also knew he shouldn't. He wasn't sneaky enough to do it without her knowing, and he didn't want to disturb the fragile peace between them. He made some calls to friends and checked with co-workers at the station, but no one had seen Stephanie for a couple of days, and no one had heard anything. Sighing, he gave up and dialed the one man he knew that _was_ sneaky enough to check on her without getting caught.

Ranger was on his way home. It was late, and he was tired. His day had started at sunrise with a 'redecorating' job, then the team had done two repossessions, and he and Tank had just collared a difficult FTA. When his phone rang he took a moment to gather energy before he answered. Late calls were rarely good – especially when they were from cops.

"Yo."

"Have you seen Stephanie in the last couple of days?" It was Morelli. The lack of greeting and the overly-calm voice of the cop set off alarms in Ranger's head.

"Not for nearly a week. Why?"

Morelli sighed and told him about Connie's call. "I'm surprised she didn't call you, too," he finished.

"She may have. My phone got smashed earlier and I haven't checked my voicemail yet. Have you gone to check on her?"

There was a bit of uncomfortable silence, then Morelli said, "I'm trying to give her space. I can't go check up on her without her knowing. You can. So, will you?"

Ranger hesitated for only a heartbeat. There was a lot in Morelli's voice that was going unsaid, and it was unsettling. "I'll check. I'll let you know."

He spun the Turbo in a U-turn and headed back to Stephanie's building. It was after eleven, and the lot was nearly full. All the seniors were home. Most were already in bed but some windows still blazed. Stephanie's were dark.

Her Jeep was in the lot, parked at the back near the dumpster. The engine was cold, and the doors were locked. He didn't see anyone on the stairs or in the hall on the second floor, and he paused to listen at her door. Nothing. No TV, no talking. Silently he let himself in and closed the door, letting his eyes adjust to the familiar room. It was eerily quiet. Something was off.

He glanced into the kitchen, then stopped and looked again. The aquarium was missing off the counter. The squeaky hamster wheel was suspiciously silent. Frowning, he checked the cabinet where Stephanie kept Rex's bedding and food. Empty. Was she gone on a trip, and left her car behind? No, there was milk in the fridge, and empty Krispy Kreme boxes in the trash. He headed to the bedroom and stopped just inside the door.

She was in bed, the covers twisted around her body as if she'd been restless in her sleep. Even as he stood there, she made a soft sound like a whimper and moved slightly.

He pulled a small flashlight from a pocket and covered the lens with his fingers before switching it on. In the dim glow he took a better look.

She was wearing sweatpants with holes in the knees and a flannel shirt over her nightshirt, and her hair was wild. He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips and they came away damp. He touched them to his tongue – tears. He switched off the flashlight and retreated to the living room to call Morelli, and found the box.

He was getting sloppy to have missed it, he thought, even as he sat on the couch to take a closer look. He turned the flashlight back on and cautiously opened the small box on the coffee table, even though he was pretty certain what was inside. Sure enough, he found a small cloth-wrapped bundle. He unwrapped it carefully. Poor Rex was cold and stiff. He re-wrapped the small creature Stephanie had loved and tucked it back into the box, then picked up Stephanie's phone. He played the light around the room briefly as he waited for Morelli to answer.

"She's okay," he said quietly as soon as Joe answered. "I'm at her apartment. It looks like Rex has passed on. She's evidently been on a cleaning jag – Rex's cage and all the supplies are missing, he's in a box ready for burial, and the apartment is sparkling. She's piled up in bed, and it looks like she cried herself to sleep."

The pithy word that came out of Joe's mouth actually made Ranger smile, and he gave him a moment before he spoke again. As usual when dealing with Morelli about Stephanie, he kept his tone carefully neutral. "What do you want me to do?"

Morelli sighed, and Ranger imagined he was running his free hand through his hair. Stephanie had that effect on the men in her life.

He was surprised when Morelli answered, "Stay with her, if you can. She won't admit it, but she won't want to be alone. I'd come, but I've got to be at court at seven a.m. tomorrow. And, Ranger…thanks." And he hung up.

Ranger sat looking at his phone for a few minutes, frowning and wondering what was going on between Joe and Stephanie. Then he yawned and decided he'd find out later. He took off his utility belt and emptied out his pockets – handcuffs, roll of quarters, pocket change, knife – and left most of it on the coffee table with the flashlight. He removed his boots and went back to the bedroom. Leaving his gun and pager on the nightstand, he straightened Steph's covers as best he could without waking her, then lay down beside her, tucked her into his arms, and let himself sleep.

Stephanie woke slowly, feeling safe and comforted. Gradually Ranger's scent and warmth registered. When had he come? And why was he in her bed? She moved her head slightly, discovering he was still wearing his t-shirt, and his hand came up to cup her neck.

"I'm sorry about Rex, Babe. Are you all right?" His voice was soft, concern in his tone. Tears welled and she sniffed, and his arms tightened around her.

She drew a shaky breath. "I'm okay. I guess it's silly to cry over a hamster. I knew it would happen someday…and he was over three years old."

"It's always sad to lose something you care about."

Her tears were silent except for the occasional catch in her breathing, but Ranger lay quietly, his hands smoothing up and down her back in comfort. Only when her tears dried did he shift; his arms went around her tightly and he kissed the top of her head. She returned the embrace for a few moments then she took a deep breath and he loosened his hold so she could sit up. She gave him a shaky smile.

"I should take a shower and get moving. I've got things I need to do today."

"When and where for Rex's funeral?"

"I'll bury him at Mom and Dad's house sometime this morning. They'll be at Valerie's house most of the day, painting while the older girls are at school."

"Want company?"

She smiled at his offer. "Thank you, but no. I'll be okay by myself."

She hesitated, and he knew she was going to ask why he'd been there in the night. He forestalled her.

"Don't be a stranger. Your friends worry when you're not around."

For once she let it go. "Thank you for staying with me."

"Anytime," he said. He remained on the bed, unmoving, until she went into the bathroom and closed the door.

She knew he'd be gone when she stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later. She pulled on her robe without bothering to get dressed and wandered out to the kitchen. A smile tugged at her lips when she found what he'd left for her. On the counter were two small bags and a cup. A large fry and diet coke from McDonalds, and two donuts – a Boston Crème and a Butterscotch. Comfort food from the health guru. She ate, carefully keeping her back to the empty expanse of countertop. It wasn't until she headed back to the bedroom to get dressed that she noticed the small potted yellow rose sitting next to the box on the coffee table.

Stephanie patted the soil gently over the grave in the back corner of her parents' yard between the fence and the side of the garage, next to the markers for Valerie's two parakeets. She watered the tiny rosebush she'd planted on top, and was sitting back on her heels when she heard someone walking across the grass. When she turned Morelli stopped. He was dressed up in a suit for court and his eyes were tired.

"He called you, didn't he," she said. Morelli nodded, looking guilty.

"He told me you didn't want company, but I just wanted to see you and say I'm sorry. I know you'll miss him." Awkwardly, he held out a small white oval stone – a paving stone from a kit, with REX stamped into it with fancy letters.

"You made this?"

He nodded. "I made markers for Mom's flower garden last summer. I had some stuff left over."

"Thank you." She took it and fitted it over the bare dirt in front of the rose. For a moment she just sat there, then she sniffed and stood up, dusting her hands off on her jeans.

"I'd give you a hug, but I have to be back in court in twenty minutes," Joe said with a faint smile when she turned to face him. He reached out and brushed a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "Take it easy for a few days, okay? This trial is going to keep me tied up for a while but I'll call you when I can. When it's over maybe we can go out to dinner."

"That sounds good," she smiled. "Thanks for coming by, Joe. I appreciate it." She stretched up, careful not to get dirt on his suit, and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll talk to you later."

Joe gave her a smile and headed back to his car. Stephanie watched him for a minute before turning to pick up the trowel and watering can. She'd put them away and dust herself off, and then she's go by the bonds office. She needed to let Connie and Lula know she was okay and see if she had any skips. She needed to work.


	3. Chapter 3

It took a dozen donuts and an hour to reassure Connie and Lula that I was okay. They were so sympathetic about Rex they nearly made me cry again. I didn't tell them about Ranger showing up during the night, or Joe's unexpectedly sweet gesture of making the grave marker. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe it felt too private. I didn't feel like sharing.

There were three skips waiting for me. Two were 'regulars' I'd caught before and had pretty much figured out. Neither one of them gave me any problems except for a slight high from the second-hand smoke inside one of their houses. I drove to the station with the top down, hoping it'd air him out some before the cops got a whiff.

The third was a new one, someone not originally from the 'Burg, and he proved more elusive. I dug for three days and was getting nowhere fast. All I'd even heard was the whisper of a name I didn't recognize.

By day four I was afraid this one was going to break my new-found lucky streak. I'd just ripped the leg of my jeans open all down the outside of my thigh throwing myself over a chain-link fence, running from the biggest damn dog I've ever seen in my life. It was bigger than a Rottweiler, even. I didn't stick around to see if it was friendly. I was running for a gate – it wasn't even locked – but the dog was too close to mess with a latch. I just made a jump for it. I didn't even look into the next yard first. I guess I'm lucky it wasn't filled with Dobermans.

I limped back to my Jeep fuming. The impromptu hurdle had pulled a few muscles and it would probably hurt worse tomorrow. On the bright side, the jeans were old anyway and had shrunk to the point of being too tight. Besides, I knew I was damned lucky I hadn't torn my leg open on the sharp wire at the top of the fence instead of just my jeans. When I caught this asshole I'd buy myself some new jeans with part of the payout.

I tried to plan where to look next on my way home but gave up and just sulked. At least I got a halfway decent parking space for a change. The elevator opened as I walked up and the twin ladies from the third floor got out, headed to some church basement to play bingo. They were eighty if they were a day and still dressed alike. I could never decide if that was cute or creepy.

I got that feeling on the way up in the elevator. You know what I mean. That feeling that makes you wish the elevator had a 'skip' button so you could go on to the next floor. But the door opened and I got out, surprised to see the hallway empty. I expected someone would be lurking outside my door.

The door swung open as I reached out with my key, making me squeak. Ranger stood inside, grinning at me. I knew I had grass and leaves in my hair – I tried, but I knew I hadn't got it all. This his smile faded into a faint frown when he noticed my jeans leg flapping.

"Babe, are you hurt?"

"Only my pride."

"What happened?"

I had to smile a little. It sounded so stupid, like something from a slapstick comedy. "I won a race with a big dog, but my jeans got caught going over the fence."

"Picket?"

"Chain link. Wire caught my jeans on the way over, but I was airborne and couldn't stop."

Ranger squatted and slipped his hand into the jagged gap. His fingers ran slowly up the skin of my leg from my knee to the top of my thigh, and I forgot how to breathe. I barely heard him say something about not even getting scratched. I managed to gulp some air as he stood up but my knees felt wobbly.

"I came to see if you were free for a little distraction tonight. I've got a man that never misses a Friday night at a dance club, and I need a lure. Think you're up for it?"

I had to clear my throat slightly before I could speak. "I think so. What's the club?"

I almost backed out when he told me the name. I'd heard of it. It was more than a little wild, and way outside my usual range of expertise. A short skirt and a low-cut blouse wouldn't do the job here, and my classy-slut pantsuit wasn't even close. This place ran more to punk and Goth, with people sporting multicolored hair, shaved heads, tattoos and multiple piercings. And the customers were usually wilder on the inside than they appeared on the outside.

Ranger knew I was about to chicken out. He smiled. "You won't be alone. Several of us are going in on this one. We'll be close, babe."

"Will you be one of the ones inside?"

"I'll be inside."

I sighed and caved. I couldn't say no. With Ranger there, what could happen?


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Ranger left I started water running for a hot soak in the tub, then raided my stash for a chocolate bar. I double-checked the door – like that would actually stop anyone – and took the phone with me into the bathroom. Munching chocolate as I soaked, I tried to think up a good distraction outfit that would both fit in with the club and still get attention. I had an idea, but I'd need help. I called Sally Sweet.

Sally was happy to hear from me and we had to catch up a little before we could get down to business. He'd heard about Rex; how's that for the 'Burg grapevine? When I finally told him what I needed, he laughed and said he knew just the thing, and could he bring someone over to help? They could be here in about an hour.

I soaked for another half hour while I thought about an outfit, then I got out and dried off, doing a little experimental stretching. I didn't feel too bad, just a little sore. It might hurt tomorrow but I'd be okay for tonight, even if I had to run.

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, I started on my outfit idea by taking a steak knife to the ripped jeans, continuing the rip on down through the hem on that side and making a new slash on the other leg starting at the front of the thigh just above the knee and down through the hem, then made a couple more shorter ones just around the hems. Then I got a roll of brown string that had been in a kitchen drawer when I moved into the apartment and did a crude job of lacing the edges back together, making sure I left enough slack so the slashes would gap open. Sally and friend arrived before I'd finished.

Sally came in with a shorter, more normal-looking man behind him. I say more normal looking because Sally was dressed in jeans, silver high-heeled sandals, and a black and silver sequined bustier. His earrings were long enough to touch his shoulders, and he had on a white-blonde Farrah wig.

"This is Benny G.," Sally introduced the other man. "Benny, this is Stephanie Plum, the bounty hunter that's always in the paper. Benny's a tattoo artist, Steph. He can give you some mag art."

"I don't want a tattoo," I protested. "I'm afraid of needles!"

Benny G laughed, his teeth very white in his very black face. He was pretty nice looking, not nearly as tall as Sally but his eyes were an odd pale hazel, and against his skin they looked mostly green. I was guessing he was Jamaican, and his accent when he spoke confirmed it.

"Temporary art, mon. Lots of people want to do a dry run before dey make a commitment to permanent. I do dis all da time."

I showed Sally my jeans so far and he approved. I told him my plans for the rest and he offered to do it while Benny G did my art.

Sally went to raid my closet while Benny opened up a small case and showed me some pictures. The art was all really good and I couldn't decide, finally telling Benny I'd let him do whichever he wanted, so long as I could hide it under a regular shirt. He said the temporaries would last a week or two and there was no way I wanted my mother to catch a glimpse – she'd have a coronary.

Benny chose a dragon big enough to wrap from my stomach to my back and sent me to find a strapless bra to put on while he worked. In the bedroom Sally held up an old black t-shirt that had faded in spots and asked if it was okay to use. I said yes, found a bra and went into the bathroom to change.

When I came out wearing the sweatpants and the strapless bra, Sally was sitting on the floor with the t-shirt, jeans, string, scissors, and the steak knife, happily hacking away. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he was doing, and went to find Benny.

Benny had his case and its contents spread out on the countertop, and had cleared off my table.

"It be easier on my back if you're on da table," he explained. "Da light be better here, too."

He gave me a brief explanation as I got settled. He used several colors of skin dye, kind of like concentrated food coloring, to tint the skin and used black permanent markers for the black. The result was a real-looking tattoo that gradually faded away in a few weeks. Or, if you were in a hurry, you could use a scrub and hurry it along. I could live with a dragon for a couple of weeks.

Benny had me lie on my side so he could reach both front and back for the wrap-around design, and began to sketch with a marker. Sally turned on the stereo and found a station he liked. And oddly enough, I went to sleep.

When I woke up, two grinning faces were leaning over me and I shrieked. Sally started laughing, and Benny just kept grinning. I was almost afraid to see what he'd done while I slept.

"Go rinse off with cool water in the shower – try not to rub the design much, just get off the extra dye. Pat it dry and get dressed – I laid your outfit out on the bed. Then I'll do your hair and makeup," Sally ordered. I climbed off the table and went into the bathroom.

Holy cow! The dragon was green and gold, and was incredible. It looked like a watch-dragon, ready to attack on command. I twisted around to see the back and found Benny had decorated my upper left arm with a vaguely Celtic armband, and a spiny flowering vine ran down my collarbone into my cleavage.

Part of the dye on the dragon and the vine rinsed off in the cool water, leaving the colors a little less vivid but still very detailed. Very little came off on the towel.

The jeans and what was left of the t-shirt waited on the bed, along with a black thong and a barely-there black demi-bra. I had to try the t-shirt on both ways and still thought I might have it on backwards, but the image in the mirror definitely didn't look like me. I'd fit right in at Dante's.

Sally had hacked the sleeves almost completely off the shirt, leaving the edges ragged. The neck was cut out, cut low and crooked in front. The bottom of the t-shirt was cut in vague flame shapes, with the ends dangling inches above my waist. A slash started between my breasts and went down at an angle, framing the dragon's head. The top of the slash was held mostly together by another few stitches of string.

He'd made a few new tears in the jeans, too, which was why the thong. Anything else would have shown. As it was there was a disturbing amount of skin playing peek-a-boo. I got a flashback of Ranger sliding his fingers up my thigh and imagined his fingers finding the other tears…I got a rush of heat that puckered my nipples and made me extremely aware of every fabric point brushing my abdomen.

This might be a very bad idea.

Sally didn't give me any more time to think, sweeping me into a chair and attacking my hair. Something resembling a banana clip with electric-blue hair extensions attached to it was fastened in place, giving me the look of a curly Mohawk with electric-blue streaks. Lots of kohl highlighted my eyes with a line of electric blue the same color as the hair to set them off. Brown shading powder gave me high, hollow cheekbones. The lipstick looked like blood mixed with charcoal. Freaky, but somehow sexy, too. I doubted my own mother would recognize me like this. I almost didn't.

Sally and Benny stepped back and gave me a once-over. Sally nodded. "If it was me, and I had your body, I'd wear the tops of that demi-bra folded down, or go without. But damn, girl, you're hot."

Benny agreed, then asked if he could take a couple of pictures of his art. I agreed and he snapped away. I asked him to bring me copies, if he didn't mind. Just in case I wanted to go completely crazy and make the dragon permanent.

A few minutes later I was alone, and I had half an hour before my ride was due. I picked up the mess in the living room from Sally's creative assault on my clothes and went to look for shoes. My reflection caught me off guard and I stopped to check it out again. Experimentally I reached under the top and folded the bra cups down and adjusted myself. Just the idea of Ranger – or Joe, or hell, any of Ranger's men – seeing me like this pebbled my nipples, and they were very visible beneath the thin knit. Too much, I thought, and swiftly readjusted the bra.

I found some earrings with silver chains dangling. One had extra chains looped up to an ear cuff. I'd never worn them before but they looked cool with the Mohawk exposing my ears. There was also a dog-tag style necklace with tags shaped like razor blades. I don't remember buying it but I put it on. A pair of black ankle-high boots with short heels finished me off. Part of me wanted to call Ranger and bail, pleading the pulled muscle. But part of me really wanted to try this look out and some people, see their reactions.

The combination of nerves and anticipation had me a little hot, and the arousal and the pulled muscle together gave me an oddly loose walk. I didn't feel like myself at all.

My phone in its belt clip almost looked out of place, but the jeans were too tight to put it in my pocket. I tucked some money and my ID in my hip pocket and walked around aimlessly, trying to relax. I checked the window locks turned off the bedroom light when I heard a soft knock at the door. Showtime. I took a deep breath, whispered to the dragon to behave, and opened the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Lester was in the hall looking toward the elevator when the door opened, then he glanced at me and did a double-take.

"Holy fucking shit," he breathed, then he snapped to attention and put one hand to his ear. He was wearing a little earpiece like I'd seen Ranger use before. "No, she's okay, she's okay. I just…man, I hope you're ready for this! We're on our way, should be there in fifteen."

He touched the earpiece again and gave me another once-over. And the closest thing to an embarrassed smile I'd ever seen on his face.

"Ranger's already at the club tailing our man, and I won the draw to come pick you up. He thought something was wrong... Damn, girl, you are going to make it hard to watch the target tonight."

"Do you think its too much?" I asked, still not sure this outfit was a good idea. "I could change."

"No, no, don't change. Its perfect. I can't wait for Ranger to see you!"

I pulled my door shut and checked the lock, and we started toward the stairs. Lester dropped back a step and checked out my ass. I frowned at him over my shoulder and he laughed.

"I'm sorry, Steph. Where'd you get the art? They're new or I'd have noticed , but they look real." He paused to shake his head. "They're all going to shit."

"You're making me nervous," I complained. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me what I'm supposed to do?"

"Yeah, okay." We made it out to the black SUV parked just outside. "It's not too much different from the usual job, except for the location. We'll all be inside on this one, though, because there are too many exits in this club. We'll have to maintain visual." His grin flashed as he wheeled us out of the lot. "That part is a definite bonus tonight."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Be bait. This guy has already hit on all the women that are regulars at the club and he'll be looking for fresh…um, faces. As hot as you look tonight he'll find you in ten minutes, tops. You get him to follow you outside, we jump him, piece of cake."

Somehow I doubted it would be quite that simple, but I was grateful for the vote of confidence.

When we arrived at the club the lot was full. Lester managed to wedge the SUV into a space I wouldn't have tried with anything bigger than a motorcycle, and we headed for the entrance. Lester said that I should go on in, he'd follow in a minute. The others, including Ranger, were already inside. There was no line waiting even though it was Friday night; this club only appealed to a select crowd.

The sheer volume of the music almost blasted me back outside when I opened the inner door. I caught my balance, took a deep breath, and pushed my way inside. The lighting was low, as expected, but had the purplish tint of black-lights that made everything look just a little off. The music changed without a pause and I recognized Godsmack. Okay, this place wasn't all bad.

The clientele was another matter. I couldn't criticize because tonight I blended right in. There were multiple piercings, tattoos, studded leather, and neon hair in every color. I tried not to stare. Some of the men did not return the courtesy. I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, then leaned back and surveyed the room. I got a jolt when I recognized one of the men checking me out. Ranger. And I saw the flicker of shock that crossed his face as he identified me.

Ranger is a dangerous man but usually it wasn't obvious to the casual observer. Tonight his appearance announced it. He _was_ what the rest of the clientele strived to look like. And to make it irksome, he didn't even have to try. He was dressed almost as he normally did. His hair was tied back with a leather cord. Silver hoops glinted in his ears. He wore a black muscle shirt that had been cut off just above his waist, exposing his washboard abs. Several scars were also visible, including the one on his arm he'd gotten on the DeChooch case with me. The black cargo pants and black boots were the same as usual, only the gun belt was missing. He didn't need it. He was a panther in a room of tabbies. Since he was yards away, I dared to give him my own once-over and touched my tongue to my upper lip, like 'yum', and smiled. I saw his lips move and wondered -- then heard a chuckle to my left.

I looked over and up, and up again. A man stood at my elbow, an amused look on his face. Hmm, way over six feet tall and Native American…

"Max?" I ventured.

He laughed and leaned down to speak. "Ranger says "behave". We're not equipped for a riot."

I shot Ranger a look over my shoulder, then turned back to Max. "I'll think about it. How exactly does he want me to be bait?"

"He says to hang out at the bar for a while. Some of us will come by and hit on you, ask you to dance, whatever. You'll get this man's attention if it looks like you're a player on the prowl."

My drink arrived and Max dropped money on the bar before I could even reach for mine. I looked up at him through my lashes and gave him what I hoped was a flirtatious smile. From the look on his face I guess it worked. Max was my first 'victim'. He found us barstools and helped me onto mine by picking me up, which made me laugh. He sat and made small talk with me for a few minutes, then pulled out a pen. I did the player thing and wrote my cell number on his hand. He looked at his watch and looked regretful, then leaned over and kissed my cheek, murmuring in my ear that someone else would be by in a bit. Then he took off as if leaving.

I finished my drink and played with the stir-stick, debating if I dared order another one or if I should get something non-alcoholic. Deciding to wait a little longer, I spun around on the stool to watch the crowd, and spotted Tank.

I had to grin. He was wearing 'bling' – big chunky chains, a diamond stud in one ear. He was heading toward me, but when he saw me smiling he got a wary look on his face. I wondered what he thought I was going to do. Actually, I'd entertained the idea of running and jumping on him. He was a big guy, I knew he could catch me no problem, and it would be fun. But I'd been told to behave, so I waited.

Tank approached, and made a show of asking me to dance. I let him lead me out into the dance floor.

"What were you thinking just now?" he asked when we were close enough to talk without shouting. I confessed, and he shook his head. "Maybe next time. You've been spotted. Keep it up."

I returned to my barstool and found someone occupying the stool next to it. He wasn't one of Ranger's crew that I recognized, but I made a little polite conversation with him as I waited for a drink. Despite the fact that his hair was blood-red and he had two rings through one eyebrow, he was nice and pretty interesting. When he asked for my number I asked for his instead, and he fished a business card out of a pocket and wrote on the back of it. I took it with a smile and he moved off. I stuck the card in my hip pocket with my ID.

I danced with a blonde with a dog collar and then a tall gangly guy with blue spikes in his hair before Lester came by. He bought me a drink – I'm not sure what it was, juice with very little alcohol – and let me catch my breath before taking me out on the dance floor again. We got a slow bump-and-grind number and did some dirty dancing. When we parted on the dance floor and I headed back to the bar I had that sexy loose-hipped walk again. With the alcohol and the flirting I was going to need the shower-massage bad by the time I got home.

Back on the stool with a fresh drink – a soda this time since I was already buzzed – Ranger caught my eye. He was leaning against the bar near the wall, nursing a beer. Several women nearby were watching him. Either he hadn't noticed or he was ignoring them. He gave me a miniscule nod and flicked his eyes behind me. The target was approaching.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry about the delay – none of the characters wanted to cooperate with the original plot line… You know how that goes!_

_Disclaimer: (applies to all chapters of this story – I keep forgetting to put it on) The characters we all know and love are property of Janet Evanovich and are used without permission for fun only. The plot (such as it is) and any original characters are mine._

Chapter 6

I sipped my drink and slowly turned my back to the bar again as if to watch the crowd. I didn't spot anyone at first. I took me several minutes to realize the man Ranger was after was a mixed-race man barely my height. He approached with that swagger some small men develop in a misguided attempt to make themselves look cool. His black pants were decorated with chains, and he wore silver necklace chains with diamond-set pendants. But what got my attention were the two men behind him. One was Edgar Jensen, my freaking ghost skip. He was here with Ranger's target. And the other man was wearing a bandana tied around one wrist – in Slayer colors.

I almost turned to look for Ranger. Had he known about the gang connection to his man? Or that Jensen was _my_ skip? Somehow I didn't think so. I don't think Ranger would have led me into such a situation if he'd suspected – not without warning me about it first.

There were three of them. How many men did Ranger have here? I was getting a bad feeling about this.

The target approached, making friendly. I played along. We chatted, and I told him my name was Jean Burrows. We danced and headed back to my place at the bar. I spotted Ranger watching me, probably wondering why I was taking so long. I tried to imitate his tiny head nod toward the restrooms and it must have worked because he straightened away from the wall. As I reached the bar I excused myself, telling him I'd be right back, and hurried toward the restrooms.

Ranger was waiting in the hall just past the ladies room, at a door marked 'employees only.' He popped the lock, ushered me inside, and shut the door. It was a small room that doubled as office space and paper products storage.

"What's wrong?" He wasted no time, and neither did I.

"Did you notice the two men with him? The tall one is wearing Slayer colors, and the other is Edward Jensen, my very elusive skip. What's going on?"

"The Slayer I've seen before – he was here last week, but never came near Meyers. What was your skip into?"

"The file said car theft and possession of stolen property. Comparatively small stuff."

Ranger was frowning. "If they're together there's a reason. I don't like not knowing what it is." He thought a moment and then shook his head. "I'm shutting this down until we get some more information. Give us a couple of minutes then make an excuse and leave. If you have trouble I'll be waiting at the door."

After a quick check that there was no one in the hallway to see me come out of the room, I stepped out and headed back to the bar. Ranger stayed back to notify his men of the change in plans. A few minutes later, as I was at the bar declining another drink, my phone vibrated. I flashed an apologetic smile and answered.

"Time to go," Ranger said in my ear. "Two minutes, or I'll come get you."

"What? Okay, I'm on my way." I waited to hear him hang up, but he didn't. Maybe he wanted me to stay on the line?

"You're not rushing off, are you?" the target, Meyers, objected. "We were just getting acquainted."

"I'm sorry," I said insincerely without moving the phone. "I really need to go."

"Tell them your boyfriend has come to get you, and if he catches you flirting he won't be happy," Ranger said in my ear.

"What?" I said into the phone. Target and company looked on interestedly.

"Picture my reaction if I caught you cheating on _me_," Ranger suggested. There was something edgy in his voice that made my eyes flick towards the door. I was pretty sure I could guess his reaction, and I _never_ wanted to actually _see_ it.

I snapped the phone shut and put a little urgency into my voice. "I have to go. My boyfriend's here, and he'll be angry if he sees me talking to another man." I tried to edge my way past them but the Slayer moved, cutting me off. Meyers grabbed my arm and twisted me around, his other arm wrapping around my waist.

"So you're into possessive men… Good, I can work with that." He 'petted' the head of the dragon tattoo, dragging his hand across the skin of my abdomen. I shuddered. His touch was reptilian, and I hate snakes.

I tried twisting free but his grip only tightened.

"Now, Jean, I believe we were about to dance. I saw you dancing earlier, you know. Obviously you know how to show a man a good time."

For some reason that crude remark made me mad. So he'd been watching me dance? He was tugging me forward again and I planted my feet and yanked. It caught him by surprise and I got free, stumbling backwards and almost landing on my butt. A man I'd bumped managed to catch me awkwardly before I hit the floor and helped me back to my feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. He shot a quick look at Meyers but kept his attention mostly on me. Probably a good idea…I think the others would view direct eye contact as a challenge.

"I'm fine. Thanks for catching me." I gave him a small smile and started to turn away. Unfortunately he decided to be gallant.

"Do you need help?" he asked, and his voice was just loud enough for Meyers to overhear.

"No, she doesn't need your help. Get lost, loser. She's mine." He grabbed my arm again and started hauling me back toward the bar, shoving my would-be rescuer out of the way.

"Actually, she's mine." Ranger's voice was pitched low in a warning growl, but it carried well when he wanted it to. Everyone turned as he stepped out of the crowd.

He'd pulled on a jacket, and only the top of his hair was pulled back now. The rest lay loose on his shoulders, somehow emphasizing his Hispanic looks. He looked enough different that I doubt anyone would recognize him as the same man that had been at the bar only minutes ago.

I started toward him but Meyers jerked me back, his hold on my arm tightening to the point of pain.

"You think she's yours?" Meyers challenged Ranger's claim. "I think you don't take very good care of her, she's out here in this bar all alone, dancing and seducing. I think, I've found her so now she's mine."

"Let her go." The words were quiet but commanding.

Meyers immediately bristled, and the other two moved to his sides. Ranger responded with only a slight shift in his stance, only visible to anyone who knew what to look for. I had a brief moment to wonder if he's put his guns back on under that jacket, then Meyers shoved me down and behind him, out of the way.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed and I'm sorry I haven't replied personally. The muse bit and I didn't want to get sidetracked, but I appreciate the time and comments!_

Part 7

I landed hard and immediately scrambled back to my feet, off the filthy floor. Just great. Between the dog race earlier and being manhandled by this jerk I was going to be bruised and sore all over tomorrow. It was starting to piss me off.

Wiping my hands off on my jeans, I sized up the situation. The three of them were advancing slowly on Ranger. I guess that meant they didn't plan on fighting fair. Fine, then, I wouldn't either.

Jensen was just in front of me, slightly ahead of Meyers. All three of them had their eyes on Ranger, which was probably wise, but for some reason it only made me angrier. _I_ was just a girl – no need to worry about me.

I took a fast step forward and kicked out sideways, catching Jensen in the far knee from behind, buckling his leg and sending him crashing into Meyers. They went down in a tangle. The Slayer lunged toward Ranger; there was a blur and a crack, and the Slayer joined the pile.

Ranger turned his back on them and slipped one arm around my waist, turning me toward the door. The crowd parted for us and we moved through quickly. I caught a glimpse of Lester fading back into the crowd, and Tank was standing near the door, laughing. I glared at him. Okay, I know Ranger didn't exactly need my help, but there was no need to laugh.

We were out the door in moments. The comparative silence outside was deafening, making me feel like I should pop my ears. Then I caught a hitch in Ranger's breath, and looked.

He was laughing, too! Men are all jerks. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs and he danced away, his laughter no longer silent.

"Remind me not to piss you off, _Jean_," he said with a smile. "You know you dislocated that guy's knee, right? Where'd you learn that?"

"I saw it in _"The Replacement Killers"_, and no, I didn't do it on purpose. I only meant to knock him into Meyers."

He shook his head and held his hand out to me. "Come on, babe, I'll take you home. The guys are going to keep an eye on our friends and see where they go from here."

I took his hand, waiting for the rest. I was pretty sure he wasn't finished teasing me. He'd called me Jean, after all, so he'd obviously caught that. But what he said next threw me a curve.

"What's going on with you and Morelli?"

I nearly tripped myself. Ranger stopped, and I realized we were next to a shiny black Jag. New car? "Um, nothing's going on. Why?'

"Did you two fight?"

"Not really." I wasn't sure I understood the question, really. "We just decided not to see each other for a while. We…we realized that, right now, we don't want the same things."

Ranger's hand still held mine, and his thumb was brushing across my knuckles experimentally. "So you're still on speaking terms?"

"Yes. Why the questions?" His little caress was distracting. I shifted my weight and pulled my hand away.

"I need to talk to him, see if the cops have heard anything -- maybe give them a heads-up if they haven't. I don't like that Meyers is keeping company with Slayers and thieves. I'd like for you to back off on Jensen, too, until we know what's going on. Will you?"

I was being _asked_, not told what to do. It was a refreshing change from the do-as-I-say attitude I usually had directed at me… Maybe I should kick people more often.

"I wasn't getting anywhere with Jensen, anyway. Vinnie will have to forfeit the bond money if I don't get him within ten days, but until my time runs out I'll back off. Do you want me to call Morelli for you?"

Ranger gave me a faint smile. "No, babe. I just wanted to make sure it wouldn't make things awkward for you if we ended up working together."

He reached around me and opened the door of the Jag, holding it as I got in. The Jaguar was spotless, like most of Ranger's vehicles, and smelled like glove leather and new car.

"Did you get tired of Porsches?" I asked as he drove off the lot.

"No," he said with another small smile. "I just decided I should try something new once in a while."

Okay… I couldn't think of anything to say after that, so I just rode in silence back to my building. The only sound was the deep purr of the engine.

--

Ranger walked me upstairs, and as has become our habit, he came in and waited as I did my apartment check. I hadn't had anyone after me lately but still, it made me feel better. He was waiting for me in the kitchen, drinking a beer from the fridge and watching me with unreadable eyes.

I gave him a questioning look. He seldom stayed around when he brought me home, especially when the others were still out on a job. Not to mention that I could count on my fingers the times I've seen him actually drink beer since I met him. "Are you staying?"

"I'm still deciding. Do me a favor -- burn that outfit."

Surprised by the husky tone of his voice as much as the words, I looked down at myself. I'd forgotten just how much of me was on display. Some devil in me prodded me to play with fire yet again, and I looked up at him through my lashes.

"Don't you like it? I thought the tattoos were the perfect touch."

"I like it too much," Ranger admitted, reaching a hand out to trace the head of the dragon, and I almost fell over in shock. "Who did the art?"

"A guy named Benny G. He's a friend of Sally Sweet, who helped me with the outfit while Benny G decorated me."

"Do they wash off?"

I was looking down but when I raised my head Ranger was closer. "Eventually. They're some sort of stain that's supposed to last about two weeks."

His fingers moved up to trace the flowering vine across my collarbone and down into my cleavage, making it hard for me to breathe. "They're an interesting look on you…but I'm glad they're not permanent." One arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer. The other slipped down and his fingers found one of the artistically creative slices Sally had added.

"Is there anything under here besides skin?" he asked as his fingers traced the crease between my cheek and thigh.

My eyes closed and I took a breath to answer. Then the hand at my waist slid up and his mouth came down, and I forgot everything but his kiss, his touch...


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Sorry about the delay, the characters weren't cooperating. This chapter probably isn't the one you were hoping for but don't fret...we're getting there!_

_Disclaimer: The Plum Universe belongs to Janet Evanovich; we just wish it was ours! The story, such as it is, belongs to me and was written simply for fun._

Chapter 8

Ranger pulled back slightly after the first kiss, but when I didn't pull away he kissed me again. His lips teased mine and his hands explored the rips and laced slashes in my jeans. The soft strokes of his fingertips added fuel to the fires already started by alcohol and adrenaline, but they weren't enough. I wanted more. And I wanted much more than the barest brush of his lips.

My hands found their way around his waist beneath his jacket. I ignored the gun holstered at his waist, instead finding the skin bared by his cut-off shirt. The sheer heat of him sidetracked me momentarily. Then I ran my hands up his back, my fingers curled slightly so that my nails traced his spine.

His head jerked up, breaking the kiss and startling me. I caught a glimpse of surprise, then his eyes darkened and his arms tightened and his mouth came back to mine. I felt my back hit the kitchen counter and he moved in against me, one hard thigh sliding between mine. I moaned, opening to him and shivering with delight when he deepened the kiss. There was no music but for the pounding of my heart but the way our bodies moved together was a dance all its own.

I lost track of time and place. I was conscious only of Ranger; the taste of him, of his skin; the heat of his body and the possessive touch of his hands. I felt his teeth on my neck, his lips tracing the path of the vine. His hands were everywhere; exploring the skin at my waist, releasing the clasp of my bra, finding my aching nipples, then heading south toward the juncture of my thighs, leaving me breathless and my heart tripping into light-speed.

Then there was a sudden coolness as he backed away and his voice swearing softly in something not English. Slowly the ring registered, and I heard Ranger answer his cell.

I turned and leaned on the counter, my eyes closed and my back to him, trying to regain control of myself. Where had that come from? What was I doing? I tugged my bra back into place but my hands were trembling so much that I didn't even try to fasten the clasp. I just crossed my arms over my breasts in an attempt to keep the bra cups in place, took a deep breath, and turned.

Ranger had taken a few steps away from me and was still on the phone. His voice was businesslike if a little clipped as he asked for a location, then he snapped the phone shut and returned it to his pocket. Even as I watched, he rubbed a hand over his face, took a deep breath, and turned back to me.

"Stephanie." His voice was as tightly controlled as I'd ever heard it, then he just shook his head. "One day soon you and I need to have a talk."

I nodded slowly, not exactly sure what that meant. I wanted to ask who had called but I didn't trust my voice yet. Surprisingly, I didn't need to ask. For once Ranger explained voluntarily.

"Max followed the Slayer back to his apartment off Stark Street. Meyers took Jensen to the hospital. Somehow Meyers managed to lose Lester and Tank in the mess in the Emergency room and disappear. Jensen was treated and released and a woman showed up to get him. They're at the woman's apartment in a building downtown. Meyers is nowhere to be found."

"That doesn't sound good," I managed to say. Ranger smiled slightly.

"No, it doesn't. I'm beginning to think we've only scratched the surface of this mess. I'm sorry, babe. I've got to go."

He kissed me once more, long and deep, with one hand curled around my nape and the other at the small of my back, holding me pressed tight to him. Then he reminded me to set the floor bolt on the door and was gone.

It took several long minutes before I could persuade my body to move. I checked the lock and set the floor bolt, then drifted into the bedroom. I stood in front of my dresser looking at the mirror for long minutes, not really recognizing the woman in the reflection. Besides the art and the wild hair-do, my lips were red and swollen and my eyes too dark and wide. There were marks on my neck, and lower, along my collarbone.

I turned away from the mirror and stripped, shoving the clothes into a bottom drawer, tossing the earrings and necklace on the dresser and ripping the clip from my hair. In the bathroom I started the shower without turning on a light, standing under the spray, letting the water sluice over the over-sensitized skin of my neck, my breasts. I washed the smoke from my hair and scrubbed the makeup off my face. Then I lathered my body, and using imagination, the shower-massage, and finally my fingers, I gave myself release. It was a poor substitute for what I wanted, but at least maybe I'd sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was a long night, and sleep was restless and uneasy. I got up twice in the night to check the floor bolt and the windows, and several times dreams woke me. In one, Joe had burst into my apartment and found me with Ranger, and they'd shot each other. In another, I was in bed with Joe on one side and Ranger on the other and I was slowly coming apart down the middle. It wasn't hard to figure out that I was conflicted about the men in my life. Thoughts of relocating to Kansas surfaced again, and I looked out the window at the gray rainy morning. Surely Kansas was prettier in the spring than Trenton. It would almost have to be. But then again, Kansas had tornados…

I sighed and made myself get up. Feeling sorry for myself wouldn't help anything, and I still had work to do. Even if I held off searching for Jensen for a while, I had two body receipts to turn in, and Connie might have more skips for me, too.

I skipped a shower even though I had major bed head. I was a sore in several places this morning – from going over the fence, from getting jerked around at the club…and from over-use of the shower massage. I found the Excedrin and took several, hoping they'd help. Then I made coffee and sat at the table with it, sipping it and letting the fragrant steam drift up over my face while I waited for the pain-relievers to kick in.

Two cups of coffee later I was a good as I was going to get. I got dressed for a rainy day in jeans and a baggy mock-neck shirt with my rain-proof Docker shoes, and pulled my unruly hair into a ponytail. Tempted to skip makeup entirely, I reconsidered when the mirror told me I looked tired. I did the minimum and decided it would have to do. Wearing a slicker so I didn't have to lug around an umbrella, I set off.

I thought about getting donuts on the way to the office but didn't stop. It was just as well. Connie and Lula were camped out at the desk with a box of Krispy Kremes between them when I walked in.

"Hey, girl, come and have a donut," Lula invited as I stopped inside the door to take off the dripping jacket. I crossed the floor with my wet shoes squeaking on the linoleum to inspect the offerings. A couple of my favorites remained but strangely the sight of them made me feel a little queasy.

"I don't think so, not today," I said and went over to drop onto the sofa.

Connie and Lula exchanged looks.

"Something you want to tell us, Steph?" Connie asked.

"No," I said, then caught their look and repeated it more emphatically. "NO! Whatever you're thinking, it isn't that. I pulled a few muscles yesterday going over a fence and took Excedrin with coffee this morning. I don't think it was a great idea on an empty stomach."

Lula fixed me with a disbelieving look. "Uh-huh." She paused, but when I didn't say anything else she went on. "Well, the grapevine is humming today. Rumor has it that there was a disturbance at that dance club called Dante's last night involving a woman named Jeannie Burrows and someone that matches Ranger's description." She paused leadingly.

"So?" I asked. _Stay calm_, I told myself. _There's nothing to tie me to this._

"So rumor has it that Jeannie Ellen Burrows is wondering who was using her name to cause trouble." Jeez, I'd only spoken the name once, who else could have heard it? I don't think Jeanne Ellen liked me even on a good day; I really didn't want her angry at me. She was damn near a female version of Ranger.

I worked up a vaguely disinterested snort. "Who says anyone was using **_her_** name? There are eight J. Burrow's listed in the greater Trenton area phone directory."

"Closer to thirty if you check other spellings," Ranger's voice came from the door and we all jumped. He grinned slightly, giving me an enigmatic look. "But who's counting."

"Were you at Dante's last night?" Connie asked curiously. Ranger nodded and surprisingly she continued. "Did you see the Jeannie Burrows woman that caused trouble?"

He kept a straight face. "Actually, I think she said her name was _Jean_ Burrows."

"So you saw her?" Lula asked, getting into the mystery. "Did you recognize her?"

"I saw her, but she didn't look familiar. I didn't hear her mention where she was from, so she may have been just passing through."

He lied so smoothly it was a struggle for me to keep my face blank. It helped me, I'm sure, that Connie and Lula were so focused on questioning Ranger – and Ranger was carefully not looking at me.

"What'd she look like?" Connie asked.

"She was about 5' 7", neon blue streaked Mohawk, one earring with chains that connected up here," he gestured to the top of his own ear, "razor blade necklace, tattoos on her stomach, arm, and collarbone that I could see, outfit by Edward Scissorhands…" he trailed off then the edges of his mouth quirked up a little. "Some guy got a little rough with her and she dislocated his knee."

"Whoa," Lula said, looking at Connie. "Sounds like Jeannie Ellen to me."

"Maybe she has a twin," Connie suggested. "Or a clone."

As the women veered off into a series of conjectures, Ranger came over and sat down next to me.

"You ok, babe?" he asked softly.

"Rainy day, sore muscles, coffee and Excedrin on an empty stomach…" I trailed off and gave him a smile. "I'm fine. I came to see if Connie had any new skips." I paused a moment as he nodded, then added, "Edward Scissorhands?"

He grinned outright. "Full riot gear advised," he said softly. Then he got up, handed Connie some body receipts, took a new stack of files, and left.

I waited a few minutes until it became clear that Connie and Lula, uninterrupted, might talk about the mysterious woman all day, then pushed myself up.

"Connie, do you have any new skips for me?" I asked, digging the body receipts out of my bag to hand over. "I have these two done, and Jensen's a freaking ghost."

"You'd better find Jensen! I'm not eating that bond!" Vinnie yelled from the safety of his office.

"I've got ten more days, you turd. Stop yelling!" I yelled back, and rolled my eyes for the girls.

Connie ignored the exchange and handed me files. "These two missed court yesterday. They're not worth much but they'll keep you busy until something breaks with Jensen."

"Thanks," I said. "I'll see you later."

Once I was in the jeep I decided maybe I'd feel better if I ate something, and I headed for McDonalds. Since it was cool and cloudy today I decided to eat inside, and took the folders with me to read. I bought a burger meal deal and sat in a corner to read and eat, taking my time.

Nearly an hour later I looked up to find it was raining outside, and sighed. My new skips looked average – one was shoplifting and the other was drunk and disorderly. Nothing big, and they were both Trenton natives so they weren't likely to be linked to Jensen and Meyers, either. I should get to work.

I tossed my trash and slipped the folders inside the slicker to keep them dry, and headed out the doors pulling up the hood. And promptly ran into Joe, who was on his way inside.

"Sorry," I said, "I wasn't looking where I was going. Getting breakfast?"

Joe's mouth quirked up and he looked at his watch. "It's lunch time, Cupcake." He stepped backwards and held the door for me to come on outside. "I was coming in to talk to you, actually. I saw your Jeep."

Standing under the overhang we were out of the rain, but I could feel tiny drops of mist in the air. It was cool but the air smelled fresh, the kind of rain-fresh that makes you want to just stand there and breathe deeply. I gave Joe a smile and waited to see what he wanted.

"Ranger called me last night, late," he began. I felt my smile fade slightly but kept quiet and waited for him to continue. "He said his skip, Meyers, was in Dante's club last night, keeping company with a Slayer and a car thief, and he got the definite feeling that there was a lot more going on under the surface. He wanted to know if we – the cops – had heard anything."

I nodded so he'd know I was listening but stayed quiet.

"There was an altercation at Dante's last night, too. Some woman dislocated a guy's knee, kicked him for getting rough with her or something." He waited as if for a reaction from me then went on. "The guy with the blown knee was Jensen. Connie says he's one of your skips. And from what I hear, Jeannie Ellen Burrows is all pissed off because she says the mystery woman used her name."

Okay, I rolled my eyes at this. "Jeez, does she really think she's the only Jean Burrows in the world?" I started to walk away but Joe caught me by the arm and pulled me around the corner of the building with him. We were still under the overhang out of the rain, but out of sight of the door and the street.

"The woman was described as having a Mohawk with blue streaks, and multiple tattoos. She left with a man whose description could fit Ranger."

I let my breath out in a huff. "Okay, so I was there working a distraction job for Ranger. Things got weird."

Joe's eyes were crinkling and he was trying hard not to smile. "Weird?"

"Meyers was there with Jensen and the Slayer guy, so Ranger decided to call it off. Meyers got a little nasty when I tried to leave, and Ranger had to come get me out."

"And Jensen's knee?" he prompted.

"All three of them went after Ranger. I tried to trip Jensen; it was an accident."

Joe was laughing silently now, leaning against the brick of the building. "You _accidentally _dislocated his knee?" He shook his head. "What about the tattoos in the description? How did you manage that?"

For a moment I considered pulling the neck of my shirt down to show him the vine, but then I remembered the marks Ranger had left. I didn't know if they'd faded or not. And the one on my arm would mean taking off the slicker. That left the dragon.

Looking around to make sure no one else was in the area, I sighed, opened the front of the slicker, and lifted the hem of the shirt enough for Joe to get a glimpse of the dragon on my belly. Joe's eyes went wide and he caught my hand when I started to pull my shirt down, raising it instead so he could get a better look.

"When in the hell did you get this?" he demanded. I wondered if he realized how territorial he sounded.

"It's not real," I said softly, pushing his hand away so I could pull my shirt back into place. "It's a temporary. It will fade away in a couple of weeks."

"Temporary? It looks real."

"That's the idea, Joe."

"Can I see the rest of it?" he asked with a glint in his eyes.

"Not right now!" I laughed. "Later, maybe. It'll be there for a while. Back to the subject – have Trenton's finest heard anything about Meyers being tied into something big? Or something going on with the Slayers?"

Joe sobered. "Your friend Bunchy's in town. He was outside my house this morning when I came out. He came by to say hello, and to tell me he's got company this trip."

Bunchy was a Fed, with the Treasury Department. And he had company…? "That doesn't sound good. Is that all he said?"

"There's a meeting scheduled with some Feds at the Department this afternoon. I should know more soon, and I'll let Ranger know what I can if it has anything to do with Meyers or the Slayers. Meanwhile, Cupcake, be careful. Jeannie Ellen may not be the only person you need to watch out for."

"That's just peachy," I muttered. "Just what I needed." I sighed and looked up at Joe. "Tell Bunchy I said hello. And you be careful, too."

"I'm always careful, Cupcake," he said. He leaned down and gave me a kiss before he ran back through the rain to his car. I watched until he pulled away, then I pulled the slicker hood back up and headed for the Jeep.

I thought about calling Ranger about Bunchy but decided to wait. Joe said he'd tell Ranger what he could, and I knew they would both be happier if I stayed out of it. Both of the men in my life tended to be overprotective of me. I appreciated it, even when it made me crazy. But it felt a little weird to know they'd be talking to each other without me.

My peaceful bubble lasted until I pulled into my lot. A big black car was parked in one of the primo spots near the back entrance – and Jeannie Ellen Burrows was waiting for me at the door.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Sorry about the delay between posts but I did warn you from the beginning that I'd probably be erratic. That pretty much describes my life – erratic._

_Disclaimer: All familiar characters and settings property of the wonderful Janet Evanovich. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of playtime. I'll return them unbroken, I promise._

Chapter 10

Well, hell. If I'd seen the car a little sooner I'd have passed the lot and gone to the mall for a few hours, but it was too late now. She'd seen me pull in. I had no choice but face her. That didn't mean I couldn't drag my feet about it.

Not too much, though. If she got the idea I was trying to avoid her it would be like admitting guilt -- the game would be up. But I took my time swinging the Jeep into a parking space, then got myself together and climbed out. I checked the doors to make sure they were locked and then strolled through the light rain to the door. Jeannie Ellen stood there in her black leather pants, looking intimidating. She was better at it than I am, which seriously pissed me off.

"Hey, Jeannie Ellen, what brings you here?" I asked in a cheerful tone. I was hoping it would throw her off – and maybe it did, slightly. A brief look of surprise crossed her face.

"I came to see if you were the one using my name last night at Dante's," she said.

"Me?" I don't know if it was nerves or a latent stoke of brilliance, but for some reason I laughed out loud.

"I'm flattered," I said, still laughing. "But do you _really_ think I could have pulled that off? I heard she broke some guy's knee!"

"Dislocated," she corrected, but she was giving me a speculative look like maybe she was having second thoughts.

I conquered the giggles finally and sighed. "Whatever. Anyway, I don't know how to do that. Maybe I should start taking some martial arts classes. I could learn, right?"

"I didn't really think it was you, I just wanted to check. I didn't find anything." She pushed open the door but gave me a parting shot over her shoulder. "But lessons wouldn't hurt. After all, Ranger won't always be around to save your ass."

I stood gaping at her back as she left. How rude! How insulting! Okay, so it was probably true, but still…Wait a minute, she said she didn't _find_ anything. She'd gone through my apartment!

I flew up the stairs, too angry to wait for the elevator. My door was locked, but that never seemed to slow down anyone but me. Nothing looked out of place as I did a quick check in the living room and bedroom, then I looked closer. The necklace, earrings, and hair clip I'd left on the dresser were missing. In their place lay the ID and money I'd forgotten about putting in my hip pocket. I yanked open the bottom drawer where I'd stuffed the outfit. Empty. It was gone.

Wait. If Jeannie Ellen had found the outfit she'd have known it was me at the club. And if Jeannie Ellen didn't find it…? Ranger.

His line was ringing before I realized I'd dialed.

"Yo."

"Did you take my clothes?"

There was the briefest of hesitations. "Why were you looking for them?"

"Jeannie Ellen was waiting for me when I got home." I heard his indrawn breath but didn't give him a chance to say anything. "Did you burn my outfit?"

"No."

"You said I should. You said you didn't want me wearing them again."

"I meant for anyone else." And he hung up.

Okay… That left me staring at my phone for a few heartbeats. What had he meant by that?

I gave up trying to figure Ranger out. Men in general were beyond my comprehension, and the ones closest to me were the worst of the lot. It seemed like they spoke in code most of the time. I flopped backwards onto my bed to think, then remembered I still had my wet slicker on and bounced back up. After hanging it on the hooks by the door I returned to my thinking position, avoiding the now-damp patch on the bedspread, and went over the day so far in my head.

It occurred to me after a while that I'd gotten away with a lot already today. In the office I'd managed not to let Connie and Lula know the nightclub woman was me. And Joe had told me about Ranger calling him without me having to ask. I'd even managed to fool – at least temporarily – Jeannie Ellen. What had I done differently?

I hadn't talked. I'd kept my mouth shut, and it had worked. Maybe Ranger was onto something. Would I be able to keep it up? Not likely, but I'd give it a shot.

I thought about which skip to go after next, then wondered what Mom was making for supper tonight, and whether it would be worth it to go over to see. Chances are Valerie and her family would be there and it would be chaos. Maybe I'd get a pizza instead.

I woke up a few hours later to a room dim with twilight, and the sound of the television coming from the living room. I guess I had company.

Joe and Bunchy were sitting on my sofa watching a sports talk show, eating pizza and drinking beer. The rest of the pizza was on the kitchen counter, and more beer was in the fridge. I helped myself to both and dropped into the chair, eating and waiting for them to realize I was there. It took until the next commercial.

"Hey, Stephanie," Bunchy waved with his beer bottle. "Have a nice nap?"

"You guys read my mind," I said, ignoring the jab about the nap. "I was wishing for pizza for dinner. What's up?"

"Bunchy wanted to come by and say hi," Joe said.

"Yeah, I hear your life has gotten boring. No car explosions lately?"

"No. I think everyone got tired of that – too predictable now. I'm sure something new will pop up soon." I was only joking, but Joe gave me a dark look.

"There's nothing wrong with boring, really. I'm just as glad your life has quieted down. So, how's Lula doing?"

"She's fine – same as always. She's doing some skip tracing now, too, and we still help each other out from time to time. You should go say hello to her, too."

"I'm sure I'll run in to her while I'm in town."

Joe nodded toward the bedroom with his head, and when he got up I followed him. Inside, he shut the door but he waited a few beats to speak. I kept quiet, even though I had to bite my tongue. It worked.

"In a nutshell, the Feds say something big is going on. The problem is that they're not sure exactly what. Counterfeiting is involved, and drugs and murder, maybe more.

They're setting up a task force and they've asked us to lean on our sources, see if any word is on the street."

He paused, heaving a sigh and putting his fists on his hips before continuing. "I know you, Steph. With your luck you'll manage to run across some information, and I'm not saying to stay out of it – but, please, don't try to follow any leads on your own. Call me, or Ranger, or hell, any of the cops you know. Just… Please."

Holy shit, the impossible has happened. Joe said _please_.

"Okay. I'll call you or Ranger. I promise." See, I could be cooperative if people asked me nicely. Joe looked a little shocked, but it didn't last long."

"So, Cupcake -- can I see the rest of the dragon now?"

Since he asked nicely, I folded my t-shirt up to the band of my bra and did a slow turn so he could see the whole dragon. He whistled through his teeth and, being Joe, had to feel it.

"You should get a real tattoo," he said.

"Not likely. I hate needles. But I might do the temporary ones again. They're kind of fun." A thought crossed my mind. "You didn't say anything to anyone about it being me at the club, did you? Or about the tattoo?"

"No, why?" he asked, frowning.

"Well, for one thing, I don't want it getting around. Jeannie Ellen was waiting for me when I got home today as it was."

"Why is she involved?"

Oops. I guess I left out a little bit of the story. "Um, because I used the name Jean Burrows at the club – but only to one person, so I'm not sure how it got spread all over so fast."

"My lips are sealed, but you must have a death wish," Joe complained, but it didn't slow him down much. His hands started to wander, but since Bunchy was in the next room he didn't push it when I stepped back. Which turned out to be a good thing, because when I opened the bedroom door Bunchy and Ranger were eyeing each other in the living room.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 11

Ranger's eyes flicked to me as soon as I opened the door, and he gave me an infinitesimal nod. In the next moment his face went blank, and I realized Joe had stepped into the doorway behind me. The tension in the room went up a notch. And I thought having Joe and Ranger in the same room had been bad.

Well, I hadn't been doing anything to be ashamed of, so I walked out and headed to the fridge for another beer, asking over my shoulder if anyone else wanted one. Only Ranger answered.

"No, thanks. I'm sorry if I interrupted, I didn't realize you had company. I just stopped by to let you know what we found out."

"That's why Joe came by. Bunchy came to say hello. You remember Bunchy, don't you?"

Ranger actually gave me a half-smile. "Yeah," he said, looking at Bunchy, who was sipping his beer. "Bunchy the bookie."

Bunchy did a half-choke, half laugh. "Hell, I almost forgot about that."

Joe didn't look very happy about the little exchange, but the tension in the room was broken at least.

"If Morelli filled you in then I should be going. Later, Babe." Ranger gave me a smile and was gone.

Bunchy got to his feet and gave me a speaking look. The only problem was I didn't understand what it said. Whatever it was he obviously didn't want to say it in front of Joe. "Well, we should be on our way."

Joe gave me a one-armed hug. "Yeah, I guess so. I rode over with Bunchy and I need to go back to the station to get my car. Call me if you need anything, Cupcake."

They left, and I locked the door and put on the chain. One of these days I really needed to find a lock that actually could keep people out of my apartment -- if there was such a thing.

I ate another slice of pizza watching a re-run of **_CSI _**then got up and changed clothes. I was going out after one of the skips tonight, and I wanted to be dressed to chase.

Twenty minutes later I was headed to a bar at the edge of downtown, dressed in my usual jeans, t-shirt, and lace-up boots. The boots were broken in enough now that I could actually run in them, and the soles were thick enough to protect me from broken glass or – in emergencies – knives. My target was a regular, and more of a runner than a fighter despite the drunk & disorderly charge, so I wasn't too worried about other weapons.

It was almost too easy. I found him on a barstool at the back of the bar, half wasted, with a beer in front of him. When I identified myself he ran and I was hot on his heels. Instead of heading for the back door, which was closer, he ran toward the front, shoving people out of his way. I had to leap over two people who fell and bounced off a big guy. I glanced up and nearly had a heart attack. It was Jensen. I kept going and caught the skip on the sidewalk ten yards from the door, tackling him and accidentally landing with my knee in the small of his back. He screamed like a girl but all the fight went out of him, and he stayed docile all the way to the station.

Joe was there, so I told him about Jensen being at the bar. Then I went home, locked up, took a shower and went to bed.

The next three days were surreal. Now that I didn't _want_ to find Jensen, I tripped over him everywhere I went. Him or Meyers – and I stayed as far away from Slayer territory as I could. I didn't want to push my luck. I ran into the dastardly duo in bars while I was looking for skips, I saw them riding around in town, I spotted Meyers coming out of the house across the street from the one where I was following a lead. I obediently called Joe or Ranger, whoever answered their phone, and told them who, where, with whom – everything. I didn't ask questions. I didn't want to know. I felt like a stool pigeon but it was keeping the guys happy. I knew it would be short lived, because it was killing me not to stick my nose in it.

The fourth day I was walking down Stark Street, looking for a prostitute that was FTA. I was wearing my own version of uniform - jeans, boots, and t-shirt - for comfort and because once when I came down here dressed up I nearly got in a fight with a pimp who thought I was working in his territory without his protection. I was standing on a corner talking to a thin tired-looking black woman when a car pulled to a stop at an abandoned building about a block away on the side street. Meyers got out, and the Slayer came out of the shadows of the doorway to meet him. They went inside.

I stepped back around the corner so I'd be out of sight and dialed Joe. No answer, so I called Ranger and did the drill. He told me Tank was following the Slayer so was probably in the area, but he took the address of the building. He didn't tell me to leave, just to be careful, and hung up.

Ten minutes later I felt a familiar tingling along my spine, and a warm hand gripped my neck. I smiled and turned to say hello to Ranger, but could only stare instead. Ranger looked very un-Ranger-like. I've seen him in camo fatigues, his usual all-black cargo pants and t-shirts, and dressed like a Wall Street businessman, but I'd never seen him look like this before.

He was undercover, was the only thing that came to mind. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a white wife-beater with a faded red Hawaiian print shirt open over it. His hair was loose and he had a five-o'clock shadow darkening his cheeks. He could have been any street-tough Hispanic man in New Jersey. I was glad I hadn't seen him coming – I would probably not have recognized him and run the other way.

"Get a grip, Babe," he teased as he drew me with him into the alley, and I finally got my mouth to close. "What are you doing on Stark alone?"

"I was running down leads on a new skip – a hooker. Lula's sick and couldn't come with me. Why are you dressed like that?"

He led me through the ally to the service road that ran between Stark and the brick building where Meyers was. There was a rusted chain link fence six feet high and overgrown with weeds and vines along the property line for the next lot. Ranger found a spot where he could see through the mess and stopped, his eyes on the brick building.

"The Feds got a handle on what's going on between Meyers, the Slayers, and Jensen. Between rumors from the street and the tips you've called in," he paused to cut a look toward me, "-things are coming together fast. Rangeman is doing surveillance and feeding information to the cops, and the Feds have identified the players. We knew things were coming to a head soon, we just didn't know where. I think you just found the place for us."

I could hear a car coming down the service road, and Ranger pulled me in front of him, holding me between his body and the fence.

"Keep your head down so they can't see your face," he said softly, one hand on my nape pressing my face into his neck. I buried my nose against him, taking advantage of the opportunity to breathe in his scent, and we waited as the car crawled by and turned toward the brick building. His hand kept me there another couple of minutes but I could tell by the sounds that the car stopped and two people got out – two car doors shut.

When his hand moved I was in no hurry to back away, so I heard more than saw Ranger touch the earpiece he was wearing under his hair and murmur something about pigeons nesting. More code.

"Where's your Jeep, Babe?" Ranger asked softly, leading me back into the alley.

"Two blocks over. Let me guess – you want me to go home and take the rest of the day off."

His mouth tilted up at the corners. "Something like that, yes. I know you don't want to, but nothing will happen here for a while except waiting and watching and you know we'll worry if you're wandering around Start Street alone. Please? We'll keep you posted."

"Okay, I'll go. I don't think my skip's around today anyway. Try to be careful, okay? You and all the others."

Ranger startled me then by giving me a hug. "Thanks, Babe."

I headed back toward the Jeep. In the middle of the next block a derelict man staggered out of a doorway and nearly bumped into me. I managed to dodge, then I gaped. It was Bunchy dressed as a homeless man – and he didn't smell all that good, either.

"Nice outfit," I said as he ambled beside me for a few steps. "But you need better cologne."

"Last time I was here I thought you and Morelli were an item," he said.

"We were."

"And now?" he asked.

"Not so much. We're good friends."

"So what's with you and the Ranger Rick guy? He was around last time, too. Are you with him now?"

I snickered at the name, and at the same time prayed he wasn't stupid enough to call Ranger that within his hearing. "Ranger and I are friends, too. We work together sometimes."

"Right." He gave me a look that said he didn't believe a word I'd just said, and then he stumbled into a doorway and sort of collapsed like a drunk. He was pretty good at the undercover stuff, too.

My Jeep was in sight now and I picked up my pace a little. It was late afternoon, and it had been a few days since I'd gone to my parents to visit. I could head over, catch up on gossip, bum a meal, and then I'd go home. Maybe the visit would keep me distracted from worrying.

The evening passed fairly swiftly. Grandma Mazur was fresh from the beauty shop so she had lots of new gossip. Mom only mentioned the button factory once all evening, and she'd made pineapple upside down cake for dessert. My dad even talked a little, asking how the Jeep was holding up and what gas mileage it was getting. It was nice, and I got home just after ten. I locked up, took a shower, and was in bed by eleven.

Knocking woke me at six.

Well, Ranger almost never knocked, so I pulled on my robe and stuck my stun-gun in the pocket before I went to the door. Through the peephole I could see a really tall Native American guy…Max of the Merry Men.

I took the chain off and opened the door. "What's going on? Is Ranger okay?"

Max grinned. "Everything is okay. The bust is scheduled for just before seven, and Ranger sent me to pick you up. He and Morelli decided they'd feel better if you were where they'd know you were safe. I'm assigned to you for the day."

I was stunned for a second. They'd actually kept me informed, and now they were letting me be there for the bust? "Okay, I'll just be a few minutes to get dressed. Make yourself at home."

Max stepped in and closed the door, and I headed to the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my hair, then went back to the bedroom to get dressed. Jeans, sneakers, a blue t-shirt… I transferred the stun-gun back to my purse, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and I was ready to go.

We had time to stop for coffee and donuts on the way over, and by the time we pulled into a lot a few blocks away I was buzzed on adrenaline, sugar, and caffeine. Two black panel trucks were parked in the lot, and one had one of the back doors open. I could see several people inside, as well as the lights of electronic gadgetry. Morelli was standing a few feet away talking to several men in SWAT uniforms wearing body armor and loaded down with guns. Ranger, Tank, Lester, Bobby and a few other Merry Men were in the shadows at the side of the truck. As far as I could tell, everyone was in black and wearing at least vests, if not full body armor.

Suddenly my donuts weren't settling too good.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 12

Max got out of the SUV and I opened the door and stepped out, operating on autopilot. He guided me toward Joe and Ranger with one hand on my arm. "You and I will be staying in one of the panel trucks," he said softly. "Close by but not in the line of fire."

Two ambulances, lights off and sirens silent, cruised slowly into the lot. I got a little light-headed but fought it off. I'd helped on this, stayed out when asked, and my being invited to be here at this point was a reward of sorts. I wasn't going to mess up now. I could handle this – I _would_ handle this, or I'd never forgive myself.

There were enough guns in this lot to take over a small country, and I was pretty sure they were expecting just as many on the other side in the brick building off Stark. I had the urge to hug everyone - just in case - but bit the inside of my lip and stayed still. I didn't want to distract anyone from their preparations.

Max boosted me up into the truck with the open door. I recognized the faces of some of the cops inside, but couldn't come up with names. They nodded, I nodded back. I was given a seat in the back corner and Max stood sentinel beside me. Outside I could hear final weapons checks, and the men began to load up.

The SWAT guys got in the truck we were in, and I couldn't see where Joe and Ranger went. Max saw me looking and filled me in, his voice hushed.

"Rangeman and the SWAT guys are going in advance. They'll open up the building for the others and root out any hiding spots. The rest of the cops and Feds will be right them tagging and bagging."

Joe had been wearing body armor. He was going in with Ranger's team and SWAT.

Before I had enough time to process that and panic, the truck was moving. In what seemed only heartbeats the vehicle lurched to a stop and both doors opened, the men with guns pouring out into the early-morning street. There was very little sound above the pounding of my heart and my panicked breathing. Max's hand touched mine and I grabbed onto it like a lifeline. I didn't realize I'd gotten up, though, until the cold bite of steel on my wrist snapped me out of my state and I realized Max hand handcuffed me to himself.

He flinched a little under my glare. "Sorry," he said softly. "I've heard all the stories, and I'm not letting you get hurt on my watch. When they give the all-clear then I'll unlock the cuffs."

_They_ being the cops left in the truck monitoring the radios and other electronic equipment I couldn't even name. I opened my mouth to give Max a piece of my mind, but decided I couldn't take the chance of distracting anyone and shut it again. And all hell broke loose outside.

It sounded like Armageddon and it seemed to go on forever, but in fact it was less than five minutes. There were shouts and a few random gunshots for several more minutes, then long, tense minutes while a thorough final search was conducted. When at last they gave the all-clear I found I was being held off the floor by Max. He looked pained.

"They weren't kidding. I always thought they were exaggerating." From the way he moved as he let me down, and the red marks around both my wrist and his, I'd guess I tried to pull out of the cuffs. I didn't remember moving.

"Are Ranger and Joe okay?" I asked. "I need to make sure everyone's okay."

Max looked to the cops for the okay and then opened one of the back doors. The ambulances were moving in and cops were loading men in handcuffs into the other black truck. Two men in SWAT uniforms helped a third with a bleeding leg over to a gurney the EMTs had just unloaded from the second ambulance.

I jumped down without waiting for Max to help me, without waiting for him to unlock the cuffs. So he was forced to keep up. My eyes searched everywhere, but it was the sound of Joe's creative cursing that led me to him where he was being treated in the first ambulance.

At first glimpse my knees almost went out from under me - his face was covered in blood. Max kept me from falling and he must have got the cuffs off then, too.

"He's okay," he said reassuringly. "He couldn't cuss like that if he was badly hurt."

The body armor Joe had worn was mostly on the ambulance bench next to him and the EMT was cleaning his face and removing numerous small glass shards. The cuts were all on one side of his face. They weren't deep, I realized as the EMT continued cleaning, they were just bleeding like mad. The only cut he bandaged with butterfly bandages was a longer slice just along his cheekbone.

Joe caught sight of us and I must have looked pale because he stopped his swearing.

"I'm okay, Steph. I just stings like hell."

I stepped closer and touched his knee, to reassure myself I suppose. He squeezed my hand with his own blood-stained one. "Its okay, Cupcake. Just glass from a door."

From behind me Max said something about finding Ranger.

"Don't go away," I told Joe, and turned to help look.

We didn't have to look far. Ranger was on the ground next to a car parked on the lot, leaning up against the front tire. There was blood on his neck, his arm, and on his hands, and the front of his vest had five flattened bullets decorating it. He wasn't moving, and an EMT was kneeling down next to him, reaching out.

I couldn't breathe. Then, slowly, Ranger's head lifted and his hand pushed away the EMT's to unfasten the vest himself. Max went around me and reached to help him sit up. Ranger pulled the vest off, wincing, and handed it to Max with a few words I couldn't hear. Max nodded and stood up.

"I need to do a head count and see if everyone's okay," he said, and he dropped the heavy vest around my shoulders. "Hang on to this for me."

I looked down at the vest and had to force myself to breathe again so I wouldn't pass out. I looked back up in time to see Ranger get slowly to his feet, refusing the EMT's offer of a hand. He walked slowly over to the same ambulance Joe was in and sat on the bumper and let the EMT look at him. I followed.

"You okay?" Joe asked.

"Yeah. Just got the wind knocked out of me." Ranger answered. The EMT said something and Ranger pulled his t-shirt off and held it bunched in one fist. His chest was marked with large red circles that were already starting to color. Then I saw what the EMT was after – a bleeding bullet score along Ranger's upper arm, where the vest hadn't covered. I suspected the rest of the blood wasn't his.

I stood there immobile, watching Joe and Ranger getting cleaned up and bandaged, my mind nearly blank with relief. After a little while Bunchy came up, one arm bandaged but grinning. Ranger's EMT finished and left in search of someone else in need of help.

"The good guys won this one, gentlemen. One dead – theirs - and a few injuries but nothing serious. We got all but one of them, and we hit the jackpot. You won't believe all the shit we found inside."

The EMT who had been cleaning Joe's cuts finished and stood up to get out of the ambulance when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and horror blocked out everything else. The Slayer I'd seen at Dante's was coming around the corner of a building with what I recognized as an Uzi in his hands, and he was already swinging it up to fire.

My heart stopped and it seemed like everything else slipped into slow motion. I acted without thought, a little voice in my head screaming _HURRY! HURRY!_ I grabbed the front of the EMT's shirt and yanked him off balance, sending him face-first into the dirt, then caught Bunchy with a body-slam and he tripped over the EMT and went down, too. I slammed the ambulance door in front of Joe and stepped in front of Ranger just as a sledgehammer struck me from behind hard enough to knock the breath out of me. I was falling forward into Ranger then everything went black.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

_A/N: Well, now I know how to get people to leave a review! LOL! Sorry for leaving you hanging in such a bad spot - it was nearly two AM when I posted that chapter and it just didn't register in my head that it was a particularly bad place to leave it. My bad!_

Chapter 13

I woke up in the hospital with a headache the size of Texas. After a while I recognized that I was in a surgical recovery room. A nice nurse came by, asked me a few questions, then gave me drugs and I drifted back to never-never land.

When I woke again I was being rolled down a hallway, and the moving ceiling made me dizzy so I closed my eyes again. I could only remember bits and pieces of what had happened to land me here again… Ranger's face as I fell. Joe bending over me, his face pale and worried. Pain. Sirens.

The bed I was in bumped through a door, and I opened my eyes again as my bed was guided into position in a hospital room. I wondered idly if my parents were here yet, and who had gotten the job of calming my mother down.

I did a mental check and inventory as the nurse finished docking the bed. It hurt a little just to breathe, and my right shoulder ached as well as my head. My hands were okay except for one was taped up with an IV, and everything further south seemed to be intact.

Joe came in as soon as the nurse left. He looked worried and a little worse for wear but intact, which relieved me. He came to the bedside and took my free hand, squeezing it gently.

"Hey, Cupcake. I'm glad to see you awake. Are you feeling okay?"

I nodded slightly, too sluggish to move anything too much. Everything above my arms ached dully and my mouth was dry but I didn't really _hurt_.

He hooked the chair closer to the bed with his foot and sat down without letting go of my hand. "Good. God, you scared the hell out of me. Do you remember what happened?"

"Bits and pieces," I managed. "The Slayer with the gun... Is everyone okay?"

The hand holding mine tightened slightly and Joe grinned. "Yeah, we're all okay - thanks to you. You saved four lives in two seconds flat. That's got to be some sort of record." The smile faded as he continued. "You got hit, though - twice on the vest, once though your shoulder here," he touched my left shoulder just above my collarbone, "and a glancing blow to your head that bled like crazy but didn't even give you a concussion. I guess that proves you really do have a hard head."

I laughed, and he smiled. "You already knew that."

"If you hadn't had that vest on .. How come you did, anyway?"

I had to think about it for a minute. "Max," I said finally. "It was Ranger's vest. He handed it to Max when he took it off, and Max dropped it on my shoulders."

"Max was the guy with you? The one with the cuffs?"

"Yeah. He said he was assigned to me, and cuffed me to him so I couldn't give him the slip until after the all-clear."

Joe gave a half-laugh. "Well that explains a few things. Juniak came by a while ago to check on the people with injuries and talked to me a while. I guess Max was the one that got the Slayer when he started shooting – took him out with one shot. He was being interviewed afterwards and was calm and cooperative until someone mentioned you'd been shot. Then he nearly passed out. No one could figure out why. I guess he was worried that Ranger would hold him responsible for you."

Crap, I'd forgotten about that. "Ranger's not mad at him, is he? It wasn't anyone's fault, things always happen to me. I'm a bad luck magnet. Everyone should know that by now."

"You're not a bad luck magnet. You just lead an exciting life," he reassured me, smiling and bending his head to kiss my knuckles.

Okay, that did _not_ sound like Joe. Joe was more likely to yell at me for getting hurt than to be nice, which led me to the frightening conclusion that I was hurt more seriously that I'd thought – like maybe I was going to die.

"Am I okay?" It came out in barely a whisper through my suddenly tight throat.

"What?" Joe looked at me, confused. "Yeah, you're going to be fine. The surgeon even said you'd have very little scarring. What's wrong?"

"I thought maybe I was dying. You were being so nice… Usually you yell and tell me I need to quit my job; you _never_ just say I 'lead an interesting life'."

This got me a shocked look, then a rueful smile. "Yeah, well, I've been doing some thinking about that, Cupcake. Besides, this time it wasn't even your fault you were there. It was mine, and Ranger's. We decided it would be okay."

But his smile faded and his lips tightened in a way that I knew meant he was trying to hold his temper. "Besides, Ranger can't be too angry since you got hurt saving his life."

I had been about to ask where Ranger was but now I wasn't sure what to say, or exactly what was stirring Joe's temper. Did he and Ranger get into it again over me getting hurt? I hoped not. But I couldn't handle it right now, whatever it was.

Joe must have read my thoughts on my face because he took a breath, seemed to settle himself, and smiled at me again. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, but-- Do my parents know, Joe?"

"Not yet, not officially, anyway. There was an order to keep a lid on information until a formal statement was made, but who knows what's floating around the 'Burg grapevine. I'm going over to tell them myself, I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay first." He grinned slightly again. "Plus I thought you might want a little while to brace yourself for the invasion."

Just the thought of my mom's reaction made me grip his hand hard. "Don't say I got shot. You know my mom, she'll completely freak that I got shot _again_. No one else's daughter has been shot three times. Make up something – tell her I got cut by breaking glass or fell down a fire escape or something. Anything!"

"The details will be all over Trenton before nightfall, Cupcake. You can't keep it from her, and if I lie she'll be pissed off at both of us. Don't worry, I'll sort of ease into it. It'll be fine. You just take it easy, okay? I'll see you soon." He stood, leaned over and kissed me gently. It wasn't a brotherly kiss, either, despite being tender, not brotherly at all. Which left me to wonder just what he'd been thinking about.

I dozed off for a while, I think, then came awake when I heard the door open. Bobby and Lester slipped in and closed the door softly behind them.

"Why are you guys sneaking in?" I asked.

Lester let out a breath as if I'd startled him. "Stephanie, jeez. We thought you were asleep and we didn't want to wake you, we just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. Just a little dopey. Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, not even a scratch. Ranger caught most of the action, and Joe and Tank got a little cut up with glass, that's about it. You were the one that had us worried."

"Is Ranger okay? And Tank?"

They gave each other a glance before Bobby answered. "They're okay. Ranger was waiting with Morelli and that Fed with the weird eyebrows while you were in surgery when Tank came in. The Fed squealed to Tank that Ranger'd caught another bullet, and Tank took him back down to Emergency to get it taken care of."

"_What?_" Evidently Joe had left a few things out.

"It was nothing, barely a scratch," Lester rushed in to reassure me. "It just barely broke the skin, Steph – he pulled it out with his fingers before the ambulance got to the hospital.

That might have made me feel better if he hadn't been patting a spot on his chest right over his heart. "Is Ranger okay?" I repeated, fighting lightheadedness. I suddenly had Bobby's thumb in a death grip.

"He's okay, ow! Steph, let go!"

"Are you checking on her or arm-wrestling?" Ranger's voice came from the doorway, and he didn't sound happy. Lester and Bobby bolted from the room. Ranger frowned after them and I shamelessly checked him out.

Well, he was upright and walking, wearing his black cargo pants and a windbreaker zipped nearly all the way up – which made me wonder if his shirt had gotten lost along the way. When he turned back to me he was shaking his head. Then he came over to the bed and kissed my forehead, which surprised me a little – but not enough to sidetrack me.

"Are you okay?" I asked anxiously.

Ranger gave a startled laugh. "Shouldn't that be my line, Babe? I'm fine. You're the one that got shot."

"They said you'd caught a bullet," I started, but was cut off by a sound suspiciously like a growl. Ranger's weight shifted and he looked toward the door. I grabbed for his hand, and he froze, then turned back to me and took my hand in both of his.

"I'm sorry if they worried you, _querida._ I'm okay. Tank got a little stressed and overreacted when your Fed friend Bunchy told him what happened. I just have a couple of scratches, really. The bullet I 'caught' barely broke the skin – it didn't even need a stitch, just a band-aid."

"Show me." I tried to demand it, but my voice wobbled.

Ranger hesitated, then unzipped his jacket far enough to show me that he actually had a band-aid – albeit a larger one – on his chest over his heart. He caught my hand when I would have touched it and zipped his jacket back up, and as he moved I caught a glimpse of a line of stitches on the side of his neck.

"How?" It was all I could get out but he understood.

"It was the bullet that went through your shoulder, Stephanie. You saved my life. Twice. The other one would have gone through my neck." He had my hand in both of his again. "For a moment, when you fell, I thought I'd lost you. It scared the hell out of me."

I didn't know what to say. Ranger had kept his eyes on my hand but there was more emotion in his voice and in his face than I'd ever seen him betray before. I curled my fingers around his but before I could say anything I heard from the hallway the unmistakable voices of Grandma Mazur and Lula. The corner of Ranger's mouth tilted up.

"The Calvary is here," he said softly. He gave me a quick kiss and was gone seconds before Grandma led the parade though my door.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 14

My room was bedlam for the next half hour. Grandma Mazur and Lula were the most vocal, as usual. My mom was actually fairly reserved. Joe had told her that I'd saved several lives, including his, she said. She was never going to be happy about my job but she was glad I was going to be okay. At least this time it was nothing embarrassing.

When I started drooping Joe started herding everyone toward the door. My dad took the opportunity to pat my hand and remind me to call if I needed anything, and he smiled at me. He didn't give a crap about the gossip, which made me feel better.

My sleep that night was fitful. I woke up from nightmares and from pain, and several times a nurse woke me taking my vitals. A doctor with an entourage of medical students came through my room at six-thirty to view 'actual gunshot wounds'. By the time they left I was leaning on the call button and ready to beg for pain medication, and my breakfast had arrived and gotten cold.

The nurse took pity on me and brought me some hot coffee from the nurses' station pot. I relished it even though the IV antibiotics gave everything a metallic aftertaste. I tried to watch TV but kept nodding off. Around nine they let me get up and walk around for a few minutes, which made me feel seasick.

Joe breezed in about ten-thirty with a latte and a butterscotch donut smuggled in for me under his jacket, which reminded me why I loved him. His face looked pretty good this morning from one side. On the other side his face and neck looked as if he'd been flogged with a cat-o-nine-tails. Most of the cuts were small and would probably not even scar. The one along his cheekbone might. It'd be an interesting look along with the scar through his eyebrow. There was more un-friend-like kissing before he left.

Lula and Connie came in together just after lunch, bringing me a paper so I could see I'd made the front page again.

"Girl, most people only get fifteen minutes of fame," Lula said. "You done had more than your fair share, and there wasn't even any explosions. They don't even have any good pictures. Where'd they get this picture of you, anyway? This don't look like you."

It was an old picture from my engagement announcement, years ago. They'd cut Dickie off and cropped it to just my head and shoulders and blew it up. It was grainy and horrible. The only good thing was that no one would recognize me from it.

I was wrong. Every nurse, doctor, orderly, candy-stripper, and cleaning lady in the hospital found some excuse to visit my room over the next ten hours, a large percentage wanting my autograph on the paper they just happened to have with them. I started pretending to be asleep whenever the door opened, but that only worked with a few of them.

It didn't work when my family came, of course. Mom brought me a pretty robe and house slippers with non-skid soles which would make my afternoon walk much more endurable. Thankfully it was Grandma's salon day, so their visit was short.

I really was asleep just after midnight. The familiar prickle of awareness woke me, and I found Ranger in the chair drawn up next to the bed surveying the room with amusement. There were cards, balloons, plants, and flowers everywhere, including three lavender-colored roses on the nightstand that smelled heavenly and hadn't been there half an hour earlier.

"Busy day?"

I checked to make sure my hospital gown was tied – some of the nurses didn't bother retying it after they checked my bandages – and shifted to be able to see him better. He reached to take my hand through the side rails of the bed.

"I've been getting the celebrity treatment," I said with a half smile, half grimace. "Which means I haven't been bored."

"But you haven't gotten much rest, either," he finished, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, his eyes smiling into mine. "Want me to stand guard for a while so you can sleep?"

I smiled at his offer, knowing he'd actually do it if I said yes. Like I could really sleep with him watching me. Especially if he kept playing with my fingers like he was now. The feelings stirring from such a relatively innocent touch – well, the feelings had nothing to do with _innocent_.

"I appreciate the offer but I'll be okay. It's quieter at night. It's just that hospitals are never quiet, and the sounds are so different from home that every little thing wakes me up."

"Maybe I can fix that." He stood, reached into the one of the pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out a tiny blue MP3 player and some earbuds. "Try this."

I slipped the earbuds into my ears while he turned it on and selected a track. He showed me the controls and volume. And the music started playing softly in my ears… The same music I'd 'danced in my sleep' to on a stakeout in Ranger's BMW.

I gave him a smile that was nearly ear-to-ear, but tears were threateningly close. His smile was gentle, as was his touch when he cupped his fingers under my chin and kissed me.

"Goodnight, Babe," he whispered against my lips. "Sleep tight."

When he was gone I figured out how to set the track to repeat and settled back down. In minutes I was asleep, and slept soundly all night long.


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 15

The next morning started out as a repeat of the day before, but with a different doctor and a group of residents this time. I didn't care – I was ready to make a break for it. Despite actually sleeping last night I was in no mood for more of the same crap today. My head and shoulder ached but I was mobile. I wanted to go home.

My doctor, when he finally showed up, said that maybe I could go home tomorrow afternoon. I started plotting.

Joe came by about the same time as yesterday, only without the coffee and donuts. He looked a little harassed but he didn't say much. I wondered if there were repercussions from the bust, or if there was something else going on, but he didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to talk about something else.

"I've got vacation time coming. Come home with me when you're released, and I'll take some of it and take care of you until you're back on your feet. No strings. You can sleep wherever you want."

My family came shortly after Joe left, while I was still a little frazzled by his offer. I wasn't quite sure what he'd meant by it. I was ever-so-slightly tempted, but I knew what would probably happen. He was too sexy to live with platonically. As soon as I got my strength back I'd be in his bed, and we'd be back to the same situation as before. I couldn't let myself do it.

That didn't mean my big mouth could make it through my mother's visit without mentioning it. She immediately objected. Valerie and her brood were out of the house now, and I should come home and let her take care of me, as it should be. What would the 'Burg gossip say if I didn't?

Right. Like I'd recover very fast in that house, with the only bathroom upstairs, me sleeping on the sofa, and Valerie's family descending every night at suppertime? I'll pass. I don't care what the 'Burg gossips say – Mom should know that by now.

What really threw me, though, was Ranger's offer to stay in the seventh floor apartment, with him and the other Rangeman guys to take care of me under Ella's watchful eyes. It was the very least he could do, he said, to repay me for saving his life.

Like he hadn't saved mine on _numerous_ occasions.

But I really didn't want anyone to take care of me. I could take care of myself, and I had a plan.

Ranger had come by late in the afternoon, and Lula and Connie had called so I knew they wouldn't be coming tonight. I picked up the phone and called the cab company.

My dad arrived about two hours later. It had taken nearly another hour for me to find my jeans and get them on. It took me another hour to work up the guts to take out my IV. I had my feet stuck in my house slippers, and I'd collected the cards and rolled them and the lavender roses up in my robe. My dad provided a button-up shirt – one of his, so it was easy to get on over the bandage on my shoulder. He gave me a conspirator's grin as he checked the hallway, and we made a break for the elevator.

The cab he drove occasionally was idling at the door of the hospital. He helped me get in and handed me the robe-wrapped bundle before getting back behind the wheel.

"I was surprised when I got the call from the cab company to see if I could drive for a couple of hours tonight. I thought you'd have plenty of offers for a ride home."

"Too many," I told him. "I didn't want to deal with choosing."

"Do you want to come home? Or go to your apartment?"

"My apartment, please, Dad. But I need to go to a store first."

I dozed in the cab but woke when it stopped. My dad, a surprisingly willing and clever ally, had driven me to one of the big supermarkets outside of the 'Burg where hopefully no one would recognize me. He patiently walked me around the store as I gathered my supplies – bandages, scar cream (I was hurt, but I was still vain), my grocery staples of coffee, peanut butter, bread, chips, donuts, and a few healthy things. He even made a phone call to his doctor and got him to call in a prescription for pain pills for me, and we picked them up before we left.

At my apartment building he carried the grocery bags and I managed my small bundle. But when I got to my door I remembered I didn't have my purse, so, no keys. Dad went to the basement and came back with the master key and let me in. He put the cold stuff in the fridge and I told him to just leave everything else. I just wanted to sleep. So he gave me a kiss on the cheek, told me to call if I needed anything, and he left to return the borrowed key. I swallowed a pain pill, threw all the locks, put the floor bolt in place, shuffled into the bedroom, and was out like a light.

It was barely light outside when I woke again. I shuffled into the bathroom, then into the kitchen for a drink and a pill. While I was in there I had a lucid thought and turned the ringer off on the phone, leaving the answering machine on to take the calls. Then I returned to the bed and actually made it into a nightshirt before I conked out again.

My cell phone woke me a few hours later. It was still plugged in on my nightstand, and I answered it on autopilot, not realizing my mistake until I heard Joe's voice.

"Where are you, Stephanie? I stopped by the hospital to see you and your room was empty and the nurses are in a panic."

"I'm fine. I just wanted to get some sleep, and the hospital was driving me nuts."

"Where are you?"

"You don't need to know. I don't want visitors, I just want to rest. Bye, Joe." And I hung up and turned off my cell.

Sometime that afternoon I woke up and finally felt almost normal. I visited the bathroom and got a good look at myself in the mirror and decided I felt up to getting cleaned up. My head had stitches in it but my hair was matted with blood, and I really wanted it clean. I took a lukewarm shower, washing my hair very gingerly one-handed since it hurt my shoulder to raise my left arm up that high. I skipped conditioner and didn't bother shaving but I felt much better when I got out, even if I was slightly shaky. I had to change my bandage since I'd gotten it wet, which was icky. It wasn't bleeding or anything, it just was all puckered and red. I managed to get some of the scar-reducing salve slathered on it front and back and left it at that. Didn't things heal better when exposed to the air? It sounded good to me.

I foraged for food, ate pop tarts with a Coke, and then went back to bed. All I wanted to do was sleep for the next few days. At least I knew none of the bad guys had escaped to be hunting for me.

The next day was much the same, except I called my doctor about getting the stitches out. I had to listen to him rant about leaving the hospital before I was discharged, but he finally calmed down and gave me an appointment. I went back to bed, ignoring the frantically flashing light on the answering machine.

As I showered on the third morning I realized that the dragon, although faded slightly, was still on my belly. It seemed like the night at Dante's was a long time ago but it had actually only been about a week. That made me wonder if Jensen had gotten rounded up in the bust -- which led me to the conclusion that I'd hidden out long enough. Time to return to the land of the living.

My shoulder was enough better than I managed to shave and do the conditioner thing, although I let my hair dry by itself. The salve seemed to keep the area on my shoulder from feeling so tight as it healed so I assumed it was helping. I was down to the dregs of my clean underwear supply when I got dressed but managed to find a strapless bra and the oldest, softest t-shirt I owned. I was down to my last clean pair of jeans. I hadn't worn them in a while because the last time I'd tried I couldn't button them. Now they fit fine. Hmm, maybe hospital food was the secret to crash dieting.

I made coffee and nuked a frozen dinner, ate, then sat down with the phone to call my mom. I wasn't looking forward to it but it had to be done.

She yelled, she laid the guilt on thick, and then she asked if I was feeling okay. Oddly, she didn't ask where I was. Either Dad told her or she was afraid to ask. I told her I was at home in my own apartment. She sounded relieved, then told me practically everyone had called looking for me.

"You can tell them now if you want," I told her. "I just needed a break. I wasn't getting much rest in the hospital."

She understood. I had an invitation to dinner whenever I felt up to it, she said, and we hung up. One call down.

I listened to my messages next. The first dozen or so were from the night of the bust, when the news had first come out. Some were from friends checking on me, others were from reporters. I wondered who had kept them out of the hospital.

Then, after my 'escape', I got the worried calls. Several from Joe, from my mom, from Lula and Mary Jo and Connie. Oddly, there were calls from Max and Tank and Lester, but none from Ranger. There was even one from Sally Sweet saying if I needed anything to just let him know.

Tired of listening, I took a break from the tape and made a few calls.

I called Mary Jo and let her know I was okay, then called Sally and did the same. Those were the easy calls. Next I called the office and braved the wrath of Connie and Lula. They were glad to hear from me, and glad I was feeling better. But they also told me my disappearance had caused yet another stir on the 'Burg grapevine. Evidently, two of Trenton's "hunkiest men" had gone missing, too, and rumors were running rife.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You don't know?" Lula asked incredulously. "Joe Morelli and Ranger both dropped off the radar about the same time you did. You mean you weren't with either of them?"

She sounded disappointed. _I _was worried.

"No, I was home – at my apartment – by myself. I just wanted to sleep without constant interruptions." I explained. "Are you serious? No one knows were they are?"

"Serious as a heart attack," she asserted. "Vinnie's going nuts. Ranger isn't answering pages, Tank answers at Rangeman and he's not sharing any info."

I got off the phone and went back to the answering machine. Maybe there were messages I still really needed to hear.


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 16

I decided to call Joe and Ranger myself before I did anything else. Maybe they would answer my call if no one else's… Jeez, that sounded conceited, didn't it? I was wrong, though. I got Joe's machine at home, and his voicemail on his cell. Ranger's voicemail picked up on the first ring, which wasn't too unusual when he was working. I also sent a page.

I got a fresh cup of coffee before I started the answering machine playback again. There were several more calls from friends, a few more from more persistent reporters, and a few hang-ups. Then Joe's voice came on. I listened with growing shock, rewinding it twice to be sure of what I was hearing, and then I slid down the wall to sit hard on the floor when my legs went out on me.

The date and time stamp put the call on my second morning home, probably about the time I was in the shower the first time.

"_Hey, Steph, it's Joe… I just wanted you to know Ranger and I had a discussion tonight – last night -- and we came to an agreement. We've been pretty stupid, fighting over you and pushing you to choose between us – and, yeah, I know I was pushing harder than him – especially when we both love you. We want you safe and happy, and we both want to be with you. I know you care for both of us. I know you slept with him. I suspected it before but I was never sure until tonight. I told him I knew and I could see the shock in his eyes. I don't care anymore. And I told him that, too. We agreed – it's your life, and we want to be a part of it. No more guilt, and no more ultimatums. So Ranger isn't the marrying type. I am. For now, you can have us both. Your life, your choices. When you're ready to settle down I'll still be here."_

There was nothing else on the machine.

I forced myself up to rewind it one more time, and listened carefully to make sure it was really Joe and not some sick prank.

It was his voice, but he was slurring his words slightly, and he sounded tired. Had he been drinking? Drinking and talking to Ranger… They'd agreed I could have both of them? And Ranger knew about this? It was too much for me to get my head around.

I tried Joe's numbers again and left messages for him to call me as soon as possible. I did the same with Ranger's cell and pager. By the time I reset the machine and turned the ringer back on my head was killing me and my shoulder was throbbing. I needed to get to the bottom of this. I needed to make sure they were okay. But I couldn't physically handle any more right now so I took another pill and went back to bed.

I couldn't sleep. After two hours of staring at the ceiling with all sorts of wild scenarios running through my mind I remembered I'd turned my cell phone off. I turned it back on and went through my voicemail.

There were duplicates of messages from my mother, Lula, and Joe. The 'missed calls' list was long. I tried Joe and Ranger again with no luck. I called the station and asked for Joe. I got transferred to Carl, who told me Joe had called in two days ago and had taken some time off. He didn't make me ask, he volunteered that Joe said something about going fishing with an old Navy friend.

I hung up frustrated. I didn't know the names of the men he'd been in the Navy with, much less anyone he still kept in touch with from those days.

Tank answered at Rangeman.

"Hey, Tank, it's me."

"Stephanie? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"What? I'm fine, I'm home. I'm trying to get in touch with Ranger – do you know where he is?"

He hesitated, and I heard the sound of a door shutting. "Do you remember my number?" he asked.

"Yeah…" I'd saved it in my phone address book awhile back.

"Call me in ten," he said, and he abruptly hung up.

I stared at my phone in confusion, feeling like I was playing a game I didn't know the rules to. Ten minutes? Why?

I checked the time display and got up to go to the bathroom. My reflection caught my attention and I realized with dismay that my shoulder was evidently still leaking a little bit. There was some clear fluid and traces of blood on the shoulder of my t-shirt. I sighed, not sure why I even bothered to get dressed. I should have stayed in my nightshirt.

I went looking for a clean shirt and remembered I'd been putting off laundry for nearly two weeks. I had very, very little left in the way of clean clothes. The only shirt I could find that fit and wouldn't hurt my shoulder was thin and white, and the strapless bra I had on was black and sheer. I left the shirt on the bed and went into the bathroom in my bra and jeans to clean my shoulder and see if I could get a bandage back on it.

It took several tries, and in the process I pulled the wound hard enough to make my eyes water and my shoulder ache again. I had to sit on the side of the tub until it calmed down some, and by the time I got back to the bedroom nearly fifteen minutes had passed.

I called Tank immediately.

"Steph?" he answered. "What took so long?"

"I'm sorry. I had to change my bandage, and I'm not very good at it," I explained apologetically. "What's going on?"

"Have you heard from Ranger, or from Morelli, at all?" he asked.

"Only Joe - he left a message on my answering machine. I had my phones off so I could sleep. What happened?"

Tank sighed before he answered. I could hear voices, and traffic, and I guessed he was at an outside table at the little deli near the Rangeman office. "The evening after you did your flit from the hospital, Ranger and I were over on Stark picking up a skip at a bar. We were walking him out when Morelli showed up, and it was pretty clear by the way he bailed out of the car that he was pissed. Ranger told me to go ahead get the skip loaded, and he waited for Morelli. When Joe was close enough he just said, "Where is she?" all pissed off. Ranger didn't even have time to answer him before Morelli blindsided him."

"Joe hit Ranger?" I gasped.

"Right in the face; caught Ranger by surprise and nearly knocked him down."

That was saying a lot about how hard Joe had hit. Ranger didn't go down easy. I held my breath.

"Ranger blocked the next punch he threw and told me to go ahead and take the skip in. He said evidently he and Morelli needed to have a discussion, and he'd call me when he was ready for a ride back, so I headed out. When I looked back Morelli was still trying to take him down."

"What happened then? What was it about?"

"I don't know – We've only heard from Ranger once since then besides a voice mail he left for me at the office. I'm assuming the fight was about you, since I found out about an hour later that you'd taken off from the hospital and no one seemed to know where you'd gone. I think Morelli thought you'd come here, with Ranger."

"What did he say when you spoke to him?"

"It wasn't me – he called the control room and asked Bobby if you'd used your key to the seventh floor. Bobby checked and said no, and he hung up."

I was silent, not knowing what to say or think.

"I'm pretty sure he's upstairs now, but he's not answering the phones and he's got the passcodes blocked so no one can go up to check. His voicemail message said he was taking a few days off, and that was it."

That didn't sound like Ranger at all. He worked all the time, and has ever since I first met him. "Did he sound okay? Can't you check your security tapes? You have cameras everywhere."

"He's also got a scrambler remote. I checked – he scrambled all the cameras for five minutes at 3:45 am."

"What if he's hurt?"

"Believe me, Steph, I've thought about it. We've all tried – none of our codes work, not even Ella's." Tank's frustration was leaking into his voice.

"Did you try my code?"

"I don't know what code he put on your remote."

"So it might work? Why didn't you call me?"

"He made it very clear in his voicemail that we were not to call you." He sighed. "I was waiting for you to call me. I was beginning to think you never would."

"I'll be over in half an hour, maybe less. I'll check Joe on my way."

"Are you okay to drive?"

"I think so."

"Be careful. And, thanks."

I couldn't wear the white shirt, everything under it would show. I dug a little more and found the black zip-up hooded sweatshirt I'd 'borrowed' from Ranger's apartment a while back. It would have to do. I skipped most of the makeup, just using a little blush and some lip balm, and finger-combed my hair. I stepped into some slip-on shoes, then realized I didn't have my keys. They were in my purse, along with Morelli's house key, and the key fob and key to Ranger's seventh floor apartment. Everything I needed, including my gun, was in it.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where in the hell would my purse be? I've got to find it." I muttered to myself and I headed for the kitchen to dig for my spare car key. I stopped leaving a spare apartment key with my neighbor across the hall, but if all else failed I could always go to the basement and get the master again. But I really needed my purse.

I was about to open the door when someone knocked. It was Carl. And Carl was self-consciously carrying my purse.

"Hey, Stephanie, glad to see you up and around. About an hour after you called I remembered the SWAT guys found this in the police van, and brought it to us. We put it on Morelli's desk so he could take it to you, and it occurred to me that it was still sitting there. Since he's out of town I figured I'd bring it over."

"Thanks, Carl, I owe you one. But no babysitting!" I remembered just in time.

He laughed and said he'd think of something, and left. Feeling much more normal with my belongings back, I headed out.

At Joe's, his car was missing and there was no answer to my knock. I let myself in, glad that I didn't have to go around to the back and search for his emergency key.

Somewhere at the back of my mind I thought maybe Joe was pulling the same trick as me – hiding out at home – but there was no sign of Joe. And no Bob. The duffel bag was gone from the spare room closet, and Bob's dishes, food, and leash were missing, too.

I locked back up carefully and got back in my Jeep. I'd felt okay driving over but now was just a little shaky. I went through the McDonald's drive-thru and got a milkshake, hoping the sugar would give me a little boost. Then I headed toward the Rangeman building.

Clouds had come in, bringing twilight early. It occurred to me as I drove across town that Morelli and Ranger were without a doubt two of the most gorgeous straight single men in Trenton – and I had keys to both their homes.

Or at least one of Ranger's – I still didn't know where the actual Batcave was. A few times I'd wondered if perhaps he didn't really have a home base filled with personal mementos. Sometimes he was so closed off it occurred to me that maybe he didn't feel the need to keep photographs and souvenirs and favorite books and all the other junk that most people tended to collect. Maybe he had places like the seventh floor apartment that had what he needed without all the clutter.

Then again, he'd just stolen not only my Dante's club clothes, but the necklace and earrings I'd worn with them. Where had he put them?

I was being silly. But I was nervous.

I arrived at the office building before I felt mentally ready but I beeped the garage gate open and parked anyway. In the elevator I pointed the fob at the control panel and pressed the button for the seventh floor. Maybe it would be more polite to stop at the control room on the fifth floor and tell Tank I was here, but he was probably watching anyway.

When the door opened on the familiar tiled foyer I was surprised. Had Ranger forgotten to block my code, or had he left it open deliberately… My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my shoulder and hear it in my ears when I knocked on the door. I waited, then knocked again. Still no answer.

I kept flashing back to the sight of Ranger on the ground, bloody, with flattened bullets across the front of his vest, and in the hospital when he wouldn't let me see the wound on his chest. Morelli had conveniently left the fight out of his phone message – had he actually hurt Ranger?

My fingers were shaking, making it hard to get the key to work, but I managed after a few tries. I opened the door slowly. No lights were on, and there was no movement, but I could hear music.

Music was a good sign, wasn't it?

Something loosened in my chest and I realized some part of me had been afraid Ranger wouldn't be here, where I could find him. If he'd gone to ground in the Batcave I might never be able to locate him. That he chose to stay here, where I had access… Joe's message on the answering machine ran through my head again and I got a quiver of nerves.

I left my purse on the sideboard and slipped my keys into the tray, noticing as I did that the vase was sitting empty. The blinds were closed but the last of the day's light showed through enough that I could see the living room was empty. The sofa pillows were piled on one end, though, and the remote to the big-screen TV was on the coffee table.

The kitchen was dark except for the small night-light that had appeared during my brief stay during the Slayer thing. The sink was empty and the counters were clean, but there was trash in the trash can. Dead flowers from the sideboard vase, empty beer bottles, empty yogurt cups, and an empty tuna foil pack. I peeked; the refrigerator was down to two oranges and condiments.

My heart was pounding again as I crossed the carpet to the bedroom door. The room was dark, the blinds closed. This was where the music was coming from. Spanish guitar floated low and full of emotion.

Faint light from a second nightlight in the bathroom fell across the bed and dimly illuminated Ranger's form sprawled on the bed, on his back with one arm across his eyes. The scent of his shower gel was lingering, the sheets were rumpled – and all Ranger wore was the black silk boxers.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: To all those who've stayed with me and sent me reviews: THANK YOU! Your comments and encouragement kept me writing and FINALLY we're getting to the good part! There are only one or two more chapters to this particular story, but there are at least two 'sequels' partially written on my hard drive already. Hey, would YOU turn this down! LOL, let me know!_

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 17

Faint light from a second nightlight in the bathroom fell across the bed and dimly illuminated Ranger's form sprawled across it on his back with one arm across his eyes. The scent of his shower gel was lingering, the sheets were rumpled – and all Ranger wore was the black silk boxers.

He didn't move, and the tightness was back in my chest. Had I been quiet enough that the music masked my approach, or was he really hurt? I hesitated, then took another step forward, wincing when the bruising on his chest and ribs became visible.

"Whoever called you is dead."

His voice cut across the stillness and made me jump. He sounded dangerous. And it occurred to me that what I'd done – sneaking in on Ranger uninvited – was about as stupid as walking up to an injured tiger.

"No one called me. I called the Rangeman office when you didn't answer any of my calls or pages. Tank told me about Joe starting a fight with you, and no one's seen you since."

Ranger's voice was flat and dry. "Morelli and I had a discussion."

"I kind of got that. Joe left a message on my answering machine—in detail."

"Fuck." Ranger said it calmly, but he finally moved, sliding the arm over his eyes up over his head. His hair was loose, the slight waves catching the light as he turned his head. I gasped when I saw the side of his face. Even in the dim light it was easy to see the bruise that ran from his cheekbone to his jaw.

"Did Joe do that?"

"I thought Morelli was worried because he couldn't find you. I didn't realize he thought you were with me. My mistake."

"I'm sorry." My voice came out a little strangled. God, Joe must have been trying to take his head off. If it hurt half as bad as it looked…

"Not your fault. He was too pissed to listen and I couldn't block everything. I figured you wouldn't like it if I killed him."

I was trying not to cry and I must have made a sound because he sighed and looked at me. "Bad joke; just ignore me. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm fine. I'm just…hiding."

"From who?"

"You." Ranger actually looked away, as if he didn't want to see my reaction, and it gave me a funny feeling in my stomach. "I didn't want you to see me like this. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know what your reaction was when you found out about…the discussion I had with Morelli."

He was hiding from _me_? From my reaction to…_oh_. He didn't mean the fight. He meant the subject of Joe's message. "You mean the 'Agreement'?"

Ranger went still.

"That's how Joe said it on my machine, like it was capitalized. So what he said was true? The two of you agreed to 'share' me, and I decide who and what I want?"

Ranger shifted slightly; a Ranger-fidget. "Alcohol was involved, babe."

There was a long silence, then I asked softly, "Do you really want me, Ranger?"

He met my eyes. His were dark and serious, and his face was tight. "You really have no idea, do you. Why do you think I blackmailed you with DeChooch?" He gave a strained half-laugh and continued. "I thought – I'd _hoped_ – that one night would get you out of my system. I was wrong, _Dios_, it only made it worse to know how good it felt to have you in my arms. It was so hard to go back, to tell myself it was better that way."

"So why did you?"

"Guilt. I forced you… I knew you loved Morelli. And I knew I couldn't offer you what he could. But I wanted you."

"You didn't force me," I could barely get the words out.

"I didn't give you any choice. I was afraid I'd ruined everything between us, that you'd never trust me again."

I had to smile, even though tears were threatening again. "I didn't try to talk you out of it, though, did I? I didn't even try to bargain. You didn't force me, Ranger. You gave me the excuse to do what I'd wanted to do for a long time."

He was silent for a moment, just searching my face. I was glued to the spot, waiting.

"You never told Joe," he said with quiet certainty.

"No."

"You were never afraid of me, even after that night."

"No." I took a small step forward, feeling drawn.

"I know you still love Morelli."

"Yes," I said, even as I moved another step closer. I couldn't lie.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I love you, too."

Something crossed his face, and expression much too fleeting to identify. But when he spoke again his voice was husky, betraying his emotion.

"I've had a lot of time to fantasize about what I'd do if I ever had you back in my bed."

"You fantasize about me?" That caught me by surprise. "Like what?"

"Remember the motorcycle?" he asked, his lips curving into a sensuous smile.

Heat flashed through me and settled between my legs. I remembered it vividly, the look he'd gotten in his eyes when I'd slung my leg over the seat of the Ducati he'd given me to ride. I'd revved the engine to drown out what he'd said, but I'd seen his eyes and read his lips. The memory made me shiver.

He saw. His eyes darkened and his chuckle was low and sexy. "That would only be the beginning."

It took effort to remind myself to breathe. Here I was within arm's reach of him and I had no idea what to do, what to believe. Was it really this easy? I could have both of them, whatever I wanted? In my heart I desperately hoped it was true, because I did love both of them. I had no way of knowing how long it would last. But every second I wasted in fear was one less I could spend with the men I loved.

I stepped out of my shoes and reached for the button on my jeans.

Ranger's eyes widened.

"Babe."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait but I was trying to get this chapter to go the way I wanted it to. I'm never completely happy with them, though, so I hope you enjoy it anyway…_

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belong to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

Chapter 18

I stepped out of my shoes and reached for the button on my jeans.

Ranger's eyes widened.

"Babe."

The zipper made a rasping sound as I opened it, then I hooked my thumbs in the waistband. I took my time pushing the jeans down, gave a little wiggle to slip them off my hips, then let them drop and stepped out of them. I stood before Ranger in his sweatshirt and a semi-sheer black thong.

He made a little strangled sound of his own.

Emboldened, I took the two small steps necessary to reach the bed. I held his eyes with mine as I planted one knee on the bed beside his hip and slowly swung the other over to sit astride him, easing my weight slowly down onto the silk-covered ridge of his erection.

His hands gripped my hips reflexively, as if he couldn't decide if he should hold me away or pull me down. Then his eyes slid shut and a shudder ran through him and he pulled me tighter, thrusting his hips up against me. He was hard against my softness, the heat of him melting me. The only thing keeping us from joining was two gossamer-thin bits of silk. I moved against him with his next thrust and felt him harden even more, and the silk between us grew damp. He groaned. If I'd ever had doubts about my effect on him physically, they were now erased.

"Stephanie," he whispered as his eyes slowly opened again.

He gave me a smoldering look through his lashes, reminding me of when he'd teased me with the boy-toy act during the after-hours distraction job. It occurred to me that he'd never actually answered my question in the car that night. Maybe I'd have better luck tonight.

I smiled. "Is this like any of your fantasies?" I asked, my own voice growing husky.

"It's getting there,"

I reached for the zipper pull. "This is your jacket, you know," I said as I toyed with it.

"I know," he whispered. "I think you should give it back."

His hands were moving now, his thumbs lightly stroking the curve of my hips between the thong and my upper thigh. They were warm and gentle and very distracting.

I started sliding the pull down slowly and let the sweatshirt part by itself. When my sheer black strapless bra was exposed his fingers tightened. My heartbeat sped up a little further, but I kept going until the zipper parted at the bottom.

Carefully, I slid my good arm out of the right sleeve, gave a little tug on the left sleeve to get it started, and let the whole thing slip off my left arm onto the floor. Now he was wearing the most clothes.

His fingers trailed upwards slowly. At my waist he paused and smiled, his thumbs caressing the slightly-faded dragon.

Normally I'd be nervous as hell at the prospect of being naked in front of Ranger, even in low light. But I wasn't. Maybe it was because I could see the heat in his eyes and feel his response to me. Or maybe it was the feeling of unreality that the day's revelations had given me. For whatever reason, I didn't want to hold back.

"Touch me," I invited. And he did.

His hands traced the lines of the temporary tattoos and worked his way up to trace the edges of the bra. Then, very slowly, he traced circles around my nipples through the sheer cups, making my nipples contract so hard that it echoed in my groin. From the look that crossed his face I guessed he felt it, too.

I leaned forward and ran my hands gently up his chest, running my hands very lightly across the bruised skin of his chest. I wanted to kiss him but I needed to brace myself.

"I don't want to hurt your bruises," I whispered, searching for un-marked skin.

He made a noise like a growl and his hands slid around my back.

"What bruises?"

He rolled, flipping me neatly onto my back in the center of the bed. My bra disappeared somehow during the process.

"Hey!"

He'd caught his weight on his arms but now lowered himself slowly, nudging my legs further apart to position himself exactly where he wanted to be.

"No fai--" I started to protest but his weight came down, pressing the hard length of him into the soft flesh between my thighs. I lost my breath and my train of thought. In the next heartbeat his mouth came down. His kiss was hot and possessive, his tongue delving deep and tangling with mine until I was mindless.

The first burning urgency passed, and his kiss gentled and slowly he drew back.

"You were saying?" he asked huskily.

I was? Oh, yeah… It took a moment to get my brain and mouth coordinated. "I thought I was going to be on top. Wasn't that part of the motorcycle fantasy?"

"Next time," he promised, pressing kisses along my cheek and jaw, pausing to nip at my chin. "I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh. Okay." I agreed as he lowered his head further and trailed his lips across my breast. _"_Ah_…Ranger!"_

That first time so long ago, Ranger hadn't wasted any time getting me where he wanted me, and he hadn't been particularly gentle. Oh, he hadn't hurt me -- far from it, it had been incredible.

But this was different.

Ranger seemed intent on exploring every inch of my body, determining what touches elicited the most response and building on them. My eyes lost focus early on, but not before the image of his hand holding my breast for his mouth was burned into my brain.

Everything blurred into a euphoric haze. His mouth was by turns gentle and demanding, hot on my nipples, tracing patterns across my stomach and lower. His fingers slipped beneath the thong and touched me gently, barely stroking my most sensitive spot until I groaned in frustration and thrust up against his hand. My fingers tightened in his hair and I felt him chuckle at my impatience.

The thong fell victim to suddenly urgent hands. He moved away briefly then was back, sliding his fingers inside me and thrusting deep, his mouth drawing hard on my breast, until I was writhing and begging and then he was there, pushing himself inside me and catching my cry against his lips.

He set a torturously slow rhythm, easing out and then thrusting deep. Before long I was urging him to move faster but to no avail. Instead he trapped my hands above my head and kept his own pace, slowly building the pleasure until I was frantic and the first wave rolled me.

A growl of satisfaction from the back of his throat focused me, and I got sort of a second wind. His pace quickened and he shifted slightly, rising to his elbows above me. He was watching me with heated eyes, his hands cradling my head and his thumbs caressing my face. His thrusts came faster, thrust harder, deeper. The second wave was building fast. My body tightened on his and I watched his lashes flutter shut. Then he gave a slow helpless grind against me and my eyes rolled back in my head as the orgasm took me under again.

When I could breathe and focus my eyes again, Ranger was on his back and I was draped bonelessly across his chest with his arms cradling me.

I heard his voice rumble softly though his chest as well as above my head. It was strangely intimate, and it made me sigh, but his words didn't register.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you okay?" he repeated, gently brushing my hair off my face with one hand. "I forgot you were bruised, too, or I wouldn't have rolled you."

"What bruises?" I unwittingly repeated his earlier words and he chuckled. I managed to get one elbow planted on the mattress and levered myself up slightly and looked at the bruised skin I'd been lying on. The bullet wound over his heart was right in front of me, uncovered. It looked almost like a bad cigarette burn. "You're the one that has bruises."

His hands smoothed up my back. "You do, too, Babe. Two of them."

"Oh, yeah." Joe had mentioned something about them that first night, I remembered. At the time the bruises had been overshadowed by the pain in my shoulder and head, and I'd forgotten about them. "They don't hurt, I guess. I forgot about them. How about yours?"

"I'm feeling _much_ better now." He answered with a smile in his voice.

Speaking of feeling… One dark male nipple was right there, right in front of my lips, and I couldn't resist. My tongue touched it and I felt an instant reaction ripple through him. I smiled in satisfaction and let my lips drag across him. Against my thigh I felt him stir and his fingers tangled in my hair.

"Steph," he growled, "aren't you tired?"

I pushed higher on my elbow, shifting to reach more skin. "I just slept for three days," I reminded him, letting my lips brush against him as I spoke. "Besides, it's my turn."

"What?" He was sounding a little breathless already and I had to grin.

"You said I could be on top next time," I reminded him. "Well…it's next time."

I stretched up to kiss him as I rose over him, his hands quick to assist me. As I sank down on him he moaned and wrapped his arms across my lower back.

Oh, yeah. He was all mine… and I had some serious exploring to do.


	19. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer: The characters and settings we all know and love belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot, such as it is, and anyone you don't recognize belongs to me. Written strictly for enjoyment – so enjoy!_

_Author's notes at the end._

Chapter 19 – epilogue

I woke slowly, disoriented, facing closed blinds. Light faintly highlighted the edge of each slat, indicating it was nearly dawn. I was in Ranger's apartment. In his bed.

It was an effort to roll over. My shoulder ached and I was sore in interesting places, but at the same time I felt wonderful. I'd had my way with Batman. Several times. I closed my eyes and waited for the guilt to kick in, but it seemed to be missing in action. Maybe it was because I'd been given tacit permission to have both Ranger and Joe, or maybe I'd finally gone so far past acceptable 'Burg behavior that guilt no longer applied. Either way, I was happy. I smiled to myself.

The fact that the other side of the bed was empty didn't dim my mood or my smile. I could hear Ranger's voice faintly from the next room. I couldn't hear another voice so he was probably talking on the phone. My guess was confirmed a moment later when I heard him say, "Thanks, Tank."

He appeared in the doorway without a sound and caught me mid-stretch and wincing. He leaned against the doorframe and watched me, a faint smile on his face. It was the second time I'd ever seen him look rumpled – the first being the morning after my birthday, which only half counted because I was too hung over at the time to truly appreciate it. He was dressed only in black workout pants that hung low on his hips, his hair was still tangled from the pillows and his face was shadowed with stubble. The bruises didn't look any better by morning light, but they didn't detract from the lean, dangerous, sexy man, either.

"What are you thinking?" his softly spoken question startled me out of my reverie.

I answered without thinking. "That you look damn good even bruised all to hell."

I had to laugh a little at the surprise that crossed his face, but he recovered quickly. He straightened and came back to the bed, crawling up to lay beside me and pull me back into his arms.

"Thanks, I think. Are you okay?"

"A few sore spots, but nothing a hot shower won't fix."

"I can help with that. Come take a shower with me."

My ears started ringing and I could only gape at him. How long now has that been my secret fantasy – me, hot water, Bulgari shower gel and a wet, naked Ranger… Without waiting for a reply Ranger got up, scooped me up in his arms, and headed for the bathroom. I put my arms around his neck and pinched myself. Nope, I was really awake. And five minutes later I was as close to heaven as it was possible to get in Trenton, New Jersey.

Evidently, after Ranger talked to Tank on the phone he'd un-blocked Ella's code because the kitchen was magically restocked when we finally emerged from the bedroom. It was a little embarrassing to think she'd been in the apartment while we'd been, _ahem_, busy. But then again, all the Merry Men probably knew I was here, and it was no great stretch of the imagination to guess what we were up to. My mother probably already knew. I could hardly wait for **_that_** call.

I spent the next forty-eight hours with Ranger in the seventh-floor apartment. Only once more did we talk about the Agreement and Joe, and that was unwittingly at my insistence.

Ranger had a knife cut on his left hand. During one of my 'explorations' I was doing an inventory of his scars. I was quite embarrassed to find out that more than half of his scars came from time spent with me – only one was from his time in the military, and one was from his early teens. When I asked about them he told me what they were from. But he didn't want to talk about the knife cut – which only made me more determined, of course.

Finally, after much persuasion, he admitted it was self-inflicted. He and Joe had sworn an oath and sealed it in their blood. An oath to accept whatever I chose to share with them and not to fight between themselves again.

I was a little weirded out that they both seemed determined that they could 'share' me, but I have to admit their resolve not to fight was a relief. I'm pretty sure there was more to it but I didn't push. I'm still in shock that Ranger had told me as much as he had. He was normally the Master of Silence.

On the third morning I woke up to find Ranger getting dressed in his work clothes and realized our little idyll was coming to an end. When he saw I was awake he sat next to me to talk.

"I need to get back to work, babe," he said quietly, playing with my fingers as he spoke. "You know you're welcome here anytime. Call me if you want anything."

"_Any_thing?" I teased.

He grinned and bent to kiss me. "Don't abuse your power," he chided.

Before I could leave I remembered one last thing I wanted to ask. "You never answered my question about your name," I reminded him.

He hesitated, and I didn't think he would answer. But… "I've gone by a lot of names. 'Ranger' is the most comfortable, and what I prefer. But in the Army I was nicknamed Manny by my first drill sergeant, who couldn't pronounce my name. Most of my family – and my mother – calls me Rico."

"Rico?" I tried it experimentally. I couldn't pronounce it the way he did, but it did seem to fit him.

He smiled. "Are you going to call me that now?"

He'd let me, even if he didn't like it. "Once in a while, maybe, if we're alone. You'll always be Ranger to me," I said honestly. "Thank you for telling me."

His only reply was another kiss, one that deepened and grew heated until it was interrupted by his pager.

He growled, then sighed and stood up. "Time to get started catching up. Go back to sleep for a while if you want. I'll call you when I can. You know how to find me." And he left.

I turned over and hugged his pillow for a while, replaying parts of the last few days in my head. It won hands down for the most surreal time of my life so far. Could Joe and Ranger really stick to their Agreement? Could **_I_** handle it if they did?

I couldn't go back to sleep so I got up and started looking for something to wear back to my apartment. I found my jeans, but the thong was history. I had to go commando, and borrowed a t-shirt and another zip-up hooded sweatshirt. I seriously needed to do laundry.

I waved at the camera in the elevator on the way down, but made it to my Jeep and out of the garage without seeing anyone. I drove straight back to my apartment, took a shower and gathered all my laundry. I was ready to carry it down to the Jeep when I remembered to check my answering machine.

Joe's voice was the second message.

"_Hey, cupcake. I'm sorry I've been out of touch. I went fishing with my friend Harry and my phone got wet. I'll be back in Trenton on Sunday, and I'll call you then. Take care."_

I actually had to check my cell phone because I'd lost track of days… It was Saturday. In less than twenty-four hours I'd be talking to Joe, and would know if the Agreement was for real or not. I broke out in a sweat just thinking about it.

Possible scenarios played out in my head the entire time I spent at the Laundromat, and most of them were not comforting. A few possibilities I thought up gave me goose bumps, but I doubted they'd ever happen, but hey, I could fantasize.

By the time I got home and started putting my clean clothes away I'd come to the conclusion that Scarlet O'Hara had the right idea.

I'd worry about it tomorrow.

_**Finis**_

_A/N: I heard there was a problem with chapter 18, that it disappeared then came back. I don't know what happened but it seems to be okay now._

_I hope you enjoyed this story. I had a lot of fun with it, and loved reading the reviews some of you were kind enough to leave. I have a sequel to this started, also a Stephanie/Ranger story, called "Lost and Found." I was wondering if I should do a Stephanie/Joe story first to give him 'equal time.' What do you think? I'd love to have your opinions, and any ideas for a 'Joe' episode to follow "Balancing Act" will be welcome. If I use your suggested idea I'll give you credit! I'll be waiting to hear from you…_

_Harmne_


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